


For the Price of a Book

by VillainousShakespeare



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Dom Loki (Marvel), Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Loki (Marvel) Angst, Loki (Marvel) Has Issues, Master/Servant, Pre-Thor (2011), Romance, Sex, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-02-27 20:34:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 97,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18746620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VillainousShakespeare/pseuds/VillainousShakespeare
Summary: In the days before the events of Thor I, Loki inadvertently comes upon a female servant being "punished" by a pair of guards. Her crime? Stealing a book from the rooms she was tasked to clean. Curiosity captured, he decides to break through the shy exterior by any means necessary.A bit of softer Loki story, as he is younger and pre-Jotunn discovery. He is still Loki though, so sass and drama will not be far away!*Some allusions to attempted rape in the beginning. (not by Loki)





	1. Chapter 1

This was not supposed to be her life, Lysse thought in despair. It was not that she was opposed to hard work - indeed, she had toiled away all her life, but she had always done so with her mind. Raised in a seat of learning and educated by the finest tutors, who also happened to be her family, she had grown up with the understandable expectation that her life would also be in academia. Books were all she knew, all she was good at. They were meant to be her life.

So to find herself now reduced to a chambermaid in the Palace of Asgard was an absolute horror. It wasn’t the work that was the problem. Alright, yes, she was not fond of scrubbing floors or doing laundry for pompous nobles with more free time than they could fill. Who would be? But she could endure it. She could even endure the contempt in the eyes of those she waited on. Plenty of the gentry who came to the University to be educated had nothing but disdain for the teaching class who worked thanklessly to try and hammer some semblance of knowledge into their over-bred minds. Sneers from lordlings and ladies were nothing new to her. 

No, the problem for Lysse came at the end of the day. When she at last put down her rags and buckets and returned to the servants’ quarters, she inevitably wanted to weep. There was not a single thing there to read. It was no surprise, really. The vast majority of servants at her level were illiterate. But to Lysse, for whom the worlds of her stories were as real if not more so than than the world around her, it felt like death.

Lysse would lie there on her cot, staring at the ceiling and pine for the literature that had been her lifelong refuge. No one understood, but that was nothing new. No one had ever understood her need to escape, to travel to distant lands through the words emblazoned on a page and to live out dreams she would never dare in actuality. But now she was stuck, living out this one dreary nonexistence with no escape to be offered. None of the other maids had ever owned a book. They all thought her addled and avoided her.

When word came a few weeks into her servitude, weeks that seemed as years to the clever girl, that one of the young lords living in the palace had requested her for a parlor maid, Lysse had been over the moon. It was a huge promotion, and earned her the instant spite of those she worked with. Lysse hardly noticed their enmity, as they had never been kind to her to begin with. All she cared about was that she would be allowed upstairs. True, most of the time she would spend tending to Lord Fandrall’s rooms, but she would also run errands for him, occasionally accompany him outside of the palace, and she would at least be in the company of those with curious minds, even if only as their servant.

Her first day in his employ went well. Lysse was shy and tongue tied as always around the handsome blond warrior. She wished once more that she could be as clever vocally as she was in her brain. She was never at a loss internally for a thought or an opinion, but as soon as the opportunity arose to share it aloud with someone else her tongue seemed to be made of lead and her words ran away from her. Still, Lord Fandrall seemed pleased with her, and she was able to listen in when he spoke over a light lunch with a dark haired noble woman. Their talk didn't particularly interest her, being composed as it was of battle gossip, but at least it was something.

As the week wore on, it became alarmingly clear why the young lord had requested her presence, and Lysse began to feel panic. On more than one occasion, she had caught him staring at her with a look in his eye that she dreaded. It was not that she didn't think he was handsome, he was undeniably so (if not particularly her taste), but Lysse had learned early that nothing good came of it when a noble lordling dallied with a servant. The last thing she needed was to become embroiled with her master. As his hands began to wander when she stepped near to him over the next few days, grazing as though by accident over her rear or across her breasts, Lysse began to feel trapped. To leave his employ would be to go back to the cold, dark world of the servants quarters with no reprieve. It would also be sure to offend Lord Fandrall, and he would have no difficulty making Lysse's life miserable should he choose, even were she not assigned to him. On the other hand, he was making no effort to hide the fact that he found her avoidance of his attentions an amusing game, but that he expected it to end sooner rather than later.

"Tonight, Lysse, I will be going on an over night trip to Reigdorn," he told her offhandedly one afternoon as she served him lunch. "You will need to pack a bag for me."

"Yes, my Lord," she responded dutifully, rejoicing inwardly. The longer he was gone, the longer she would have to come up with a way to deflect his attentions.

"You should pack one for yourself as well," he added with a smirk. "It gets cold on the road, so I've decided to take you with me for warmth. I'll meet you in the stables at sundown."

Lysse tried to keep the terror off of her face as she nodded to the floor. Fandrall merely chuckled and strode out of the room, off to do whatever it was that amused him all day. 

Lysse was horrified. No matter how she told herself that it would not be so bad, she could not bring herself to the point where she was willing to submit to his advances. The very thought made her blood run cold. As she packed his bag and prepared everything for his departure, the truth kept ringing out in her head. She was not going to do it. She would go back to the dungeon of the servants quarters if she must, but she was not going to be the easy conquest of a smug lord just because she had managed, through no fault of her own, to fall on hard times. When sundown came, she decided, Lord Fandrall would find his bag neatly packed in the stable, but Lysse would not be there. She would leave the palace and seek employment else where. She should never have come here to begin with. Lord Fandrall might be angry, but he had no true interest in her beyond a passing fancy.

It was very possible that she might have gotten away with her plan, were it not for her one great weakness. As she was putting the last items in the satchel for the lord, Lysse's eyes happened upon a book that lay, discarded, on the back of his chest of drawers. It was a book of fables, and from the look of it the binding had never even been opened. Longingly, Lysse ran her hand over the spine. She realized that this was the only book she had seen in Lord Fandrall's room, and she opened it in curiosity. On the inside cover was scrawled the sentence, "Fandrall, perhaps this will instill in you some sense of curiosity. Many happy returns, Loki."

Lysse couldn't help herself, looking around foolishly as though someone might be lurking in the shadows, she tucked the book under her arm and, grabbing the satchel, left the room.

***

Loki sat on his balcony studying the book laid out before him. The spell described on the page open on his table was incredibly complex, and he had been trying to perfect it for days. It wasn’t often he had to do much more than glance over a set of instructions to be able to complete any given spell, which made his difficulty with this particular incantation infuriating. He hated not being perfect at anything, usually choosing to avoid those activities that gave him the most difficulty. He was naturally gifted at enough things that this didn’t limit him unduly. But when it came to sorcery he refused to admit that there was any spell he couldn’t master. 

Closing his eyes to aid in his centering, Loki drew a deep breath and envisioned the transformation in his mind. He was almost there, he could feel it. This time he had it! So when a piercing, high pitched scream tore through the air and startled him out of his concentration, he was ready to do violence.

Upending his table with a wave of his hands as the shrieking continued, Loki surged to his feet and disappeared off his balcony in a flash of green. A moment later he was in the gardens below, tracking the sound through a maze of flora. He would find the source of the caterwauling and make them regret even having a mouth with which to disturb his work. 

He did not have to go far before he discovered the offenders of his peace. In a small clearing, two burly guardsmen had third person pinned to the ground. As Loki approached the men, a scream rose from the obviously a female captive they had trapped between them. Loki stopped a few paces away and curled his lip in distaste, not caring for what he had obviously walked in on. 

The woman in question managed to turn her head away from where a burly, red bearded warrior was pressing his mouth to her lips, eyes wide with fear and anger.

“Help me!” She cried as her eyes met his, desperation in her voice. "My Lord Prince, please!"

Loki could understand her alarm. Her dress had been torn down the front, showing an enticing amount of cleavage. One arm was twisted beneath her, the other pulled over her head and held in place by the hulking man, while his companion was in the process of raising her skirt. At her plea for help the two men stiffened and turned to look at him where he lounged against a tree at the entrance to the clearing. 

"Oh, Prince Loki, it's only you," said the one by her head, relief flooding his face. "For a moment I feared it was someone important."

Loki felt his teeth clench and his temper prickle at the insolent disrespect in the guard's voice. The fact that he was not unused to it did not lesson his ire.

"Indeed," he said in a voice dripping with contempt.

"Please, My Lord Prince," the woman on the ground begged again, huge blue eyes pleading with him. "Please don't let them do this!"

"Ignore her," the man holding her legs pinned advised, giving the struggling girl a quick glare. "This need not concern you."

"On the contrary," Loki corrected him in clipped tones, "it concerns me greatly. I was in the middle of something important when the shrieking of this... female interrupted me. It had taken me days to get to where I was, and now I will have to begin again."

The woman gasped at his remark, and he spared her a quick flick of his eyes. What did she expect? That he play the knight errant and demand satisfaction for their besmirching of her honor? Clearly she had the wrong brother. Still, he did not like to see bullies attacking an obviously weaker target.

"Forgive us, my lord," the first guard said, with an ill conceived roll of his eyes. "It was not our intent to disturb you. It will not happen again. I am sure we can find a way to make sure the thief stays quiet."

The guard's leer left little doubt what he meant by the words, but Loki's interest had been piqued by something else.

"Did you say thief?" he asked. Looking down at the girl he could not imagine a more unlikely suspect. The wide blue eyes were dangerously innocent, and the whole appearance of her, torn dress and distracting cleavage not withstanding, was of nothing more than a lovely young school mistress.

"I did, my lord. We apprehended her trying to leave with Lord Fandrall's belongings."

"There she is!" a voice from behind him called, and as if summoned from the beyond, Loki turned to see Fandrall stride into the clearing along with Thor.

"My Lords!" the two guards instantly leapt to their feet, bringing their poor prisoner with them, and bowed before Loki's brother and his companion. Loki gnashed his teeth, not so much at the response, but at the clear disrespect of their not giving the same consideration to him.

"Brother. Gentlemen," Thor nodded to the men. "What is going on here?"

"Theft, Lord Prince," the smaller man hurriedly proclaimed as the girl struggled to pull her dress together.

"Lysse?" Fandrall asked, looking to the girl.

Clearly scared beyond speech, Lysse merely shook her head and stared at the ground. 

"Brother, is this true?" Thor asked, turning to Loki.

"I know not," he sighed, wishing he had never gotten involved in this whole tawdry affair. "I heard a commotion in Mother's garden and came to discover the source and put an end to it. I found these two... noble guards with the woman pinned between them, struggling to free herself."

"Who is she?" Thor asked, voice full of command.

"My parlor maid," Fandrall answered, looking hard at the girl. "Her name is Lysse. You say she stole from me?"

"She did, my Lord," the burley guard confirmed. "We found her trying to sneak out of the palace grounds through the hidden garden gate. When we searched her, we discovered your belongings."

"A grave crime indeed," Thor said seriously. "Why did you not bring her to the Head of House?"

"We, we thought to save her that disgrace, My Lord Prince," the small man replied, looking for an excuse. "We had Lord Fandrall's property back, we thought we would... teach her a lesson, scare her, you know, and then toss her out."

"How very kind of you," Loki drawled, seeing the smaller of the two turn red.

"Hush Loki, I'm sure they were just doing their duty," Thor tried to ease the situation, totally missing the obvious. "Fandrall, she's your girl, what say you?"

"What is it she stole from me?" the blond man asked, eyes wandering over the expanse of chest Lysse was unable to hide.

"This, my Lord," the large guard replied, pulling a large book out of the knapsack to one side of the clearing.

"A book?" Loki asked, voice dripping in disbelief. "Fandrall, I didn't realize you could read!"

Thor burst out in a big, booming laugh and the guards echoed him uncertainly. Loki looked closer at the book, realizing that he recognized it. Of course! It was a book of fables he had given his "friend" on his most recent birthday. Turning to stare at the girl, he saw that her face was flushed and she was worrying at her lower lip with her teeth in distress.

"Do what you think best with the girl," Fandrall said stiffly, angry now from the mockery of his friends and the guards. "I want no thieves in my employ."

"But by Odin's beard," Thor added, looking around, "don't make such a ruckus in my Mother's garden!"

Loki heard the girl whimper as the guards exchanged wolfish grins. Turning, his eyes caught hers again, and he was met by those endless pools of deep blue. The entreaty in them seemed to go straight down to Loki's soul. Glancing back at Thor and Fandrall, he saw that they had already turned and begun discussing something else, the fate of the unfortunate servant all but forgotten. The guards, clearly assuming this gave them leave to have their way with her, began dragging their captive off.

"Wait!" Loki heard his voice ring out, surprising even himself. "You will take the girl to my quarters."

"My Lord?" the smaller guard asked.

"You heard me," he barked, trying to ignore the way they all turned to stare at him. "As of this moment, she is a member of my household staff."

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lysse is now in Loki's employ, but neither of them are quite sure exactly what that entails.

What had he been thinking? Part of his household? At this point Loki’s household consisted solely of his secretary Unger who had begun as tutor to him and Thor when they were in their boyhood. Other than that, he was perfectly content to have the palace steward send someone up once a week to clean and collect his clothes to be laundered. He was by nature fastidious and kept his own things tidy out of habit. More than that, the thought of someone hovering in his space, necessarily aware of all of his comings and goings, appalled the secretive, solitary prince.

Still, he supposed increasing the size of his staff might help add to his consequence in the eyes of the palace functionaries. Thor, and even his cronies, all had armies of menials buzzing around them, impressing the weak minded. The guards this afternoon were the perfect example, dismissing him while they fell all over themselves for his idiot brother and his smarmy friend. The disrespect made Loki’s blood boil. He had taken great pleasure in pulling them aside and warning them in explicit terms exactly what would happen to them should they be so foolish as to harm the girl, who now belonged to him, as they escorted her to his rooms. The way their faces blanched and hands began to tremble filled him with satisfaction.

With a sigh he trudged up the stairs towards his chambers. It would not be wise to leave her there unattended for too long. After all, all he knew of her was that she was a thief. A thief who had risked a great deal for a single volume fiction. It was that detail that Loki could not seem to get out of his mind. What type of menial tried to run away with stolen children’s stories? To his knowledge most of them couldn’t even read. If she was planning on selling it, surely there were many more valuable items in Fandrall’s quarters that she might have nabbed. It intrigued him, and Loki could never ignore a puzzle in need of solving. 

Arriving at his rooms on the top floor of a tower, Loki silently opened the door, unsure whether he expected to catch the girl in some nefarious act or sobbing in a corner. As it turned out, she was doing neither. When he slipped into his empty living room, he was at first dumbfounded at her absence, then momentarily infuriated that she might have barged her way uninvited into one of his inner chambers. As he began to gather his wrath, however, he spied the movement out on his balcony through the half open glass door.

It appeared his little servant was taking her new post seriously, and was already diligently tidying the mess Loki had made  in his fit of anger when his spell had been interrupted. While he watched with a small smile she righted the upended table, using a discarded napkin to wipe up the spilled wine pooling on the floor beside it. 

She really was a pretty thing, not at all what one would expect from a palace drudge. He didn’t think he had ever seen her before, he mused. She must be new to the never ending pool of laborers a place of this size perforce employed. Leave it to Fandrall to sniff her out so quickly in his ceaseless endeavor to bed every comely maid in Asgard. He wondered if the blond lord had had her yet. If he had sampled her, it made his disregard in the garden even more contemptible.

Loki realized his hands were clenched into fists and forced himself to relax them. It was nothing to him if the vapid warrior wanted to use and abandon his servants. He would hardly be the first noble to do so. Loki had lost count of the number of nubile girls he had seen float from Fandrall’s employ to Thor’s to Hogun’s, all with a smile on their dainty faces, all seemingly happy to trade working with a mop and broom to working on their backs for the elite of Asgard’s gentlemen. Why should this one be any different?

Except she was. Loki had no idea why he was so certain of the fact, but he realized he would bet his life on it. Maybe it was the fact that she had appealed to him for aid, that even when Thor and Fandrall had arrived on the scene she had not batted her distractingly long eyelashes at them and simpered for their assistance. Norns, he thought with self loathing, had it come to this? Was he so _desperate_ for recognition that he would leap at the chance that a pretty maid, in the process of being ravished by two men, seized upon him for help? Was he truly that pathetic?

She had finished cleaning up his displaced luncheon now, he saw. It was time to stop stalling and make his presence know. But as Loki began to push himself off the wall, he stilled as he saw her pick up his spell book from where he had flung it on his chair. Eyes narrowed, Loki watched her run tentative fingers down the spine, scrunching up her nose as though engaged in some inner battle. Coming to a sudden conclusion, she opened the volume, seemingly at random, and carefully scanned the page. It could mean nothing to her, of course. Even if she was one of the few lower servants who were literate, she would surely never have learned ancient runes. And yet, as Loki stood watching, she raised her eyes from the book and, with a melodramatic gesture straight out of a pantomime, perfectly pronounced the incantation written in his book.

It was hard to say which of the two of them was more surprised when a shower of pale pink flower petals fell down around her head. 

“Well,” Loki drawled, staring at her with a renewed interest, “aren’t you just full of surprises.”

***

It seemed after all that she was not going to be raped. There were small mercies left in this world. When the guards had caught her trying to slip through the garden gate she had noticed when attending Fandrall on a picnic lunch, Lysse had thought herself, or at least her honor, lost.

The men had quickly realized what she was - a servant running away from her assigned place in the palace. That in itself was forgivable, but to have a high lord's property, inscribed with his name and apparently a gift of one from one of the princes, as evidence, was damning. They, of course, were quick to point out to her how lucky she was they had been the ones to apprehend her, since the prescribed punishment for a servant stealing from a noble was loss of a hand. They would not extract so much from her, they assured her. They would only demand her chastity as recompense before tossing her out of the gate. 

Lysse had tried to run, having no desire to service the men in exchange for her freedom. It had taken them little time to catch her and force her to the ground. She knew she didn't have the strength to fend them off physically. Her only chance, such as it was, was to scream and hope someone took pity on her. She had never in her wildest dreams imagined that her screams would bring Prince Loki, much less that he would deign to speak out on her behalf. And yet, here she was, anxiously waiting in his living room for him to return and decide what to do with her.

Out of the frying pan, into the fire, she thought, trying not to shiver. She knew the stories about Prince Loki; they all did. The dark younger prince with the knowing smirk and devilish eyes. There was never any shortage of gossiping about him in the servants quarters. Even Lysse, who tried to ignore such talk, had heard it. It was said, in hushed tones and with big eyes, that he was not allowed a personal maid of his own, even though he was a prince, because no young woman would be safe with him. A different girl was sent up each week, always while he was out, to collect his linen and quickly clean before he returned. Protection, they all agreed, against his evil advances. But if one was a thief, one could not expect such protection, could one?

At least he was handsome, the stray thought ran through her mind. Of course, Fandrall had been handsome, and she had fled him. Fandrall had a reputation as golden as his hair; Loki's was as black as his. There also, one could flee a Lord. Not the way Lysse had tried, with a stolen book and no leave, but she  _could_ have simply informed her supervisors that she no longer wished to serve him. A prince, however, was another story. He was royalty, he had claimed her, she was a thief. There was no running this time.

Giving herself a mental shake, Lysse determined to stop being so dramatic. Prince Loki had been nothing but kind to her, even going so far as to threaten the guards if they tried to molest her again. She had gotten great satisfaction out of watching them cower in response to whatever threats he had made to them, just quietly enough that she could not hear. She hoped they had nightmares for weeks. No, he had been a true gentleman. Much more so, in fact, than either her former employer or the Crown Prince had been. Weren't they supposed to be the chivalrous ones? Or did chivalry only apply to highborn ladies and not to the help? She was fairly certain she knew the answer to that.

As she gave her attention over to the room she was in, trying her best to stop her ever racing mind, Lysse felt herself warming instinctually to it. The walls were a dark wooden panel, accented with greens and gold. The effect was very masculine, but also comfortable. A large plush sofa against the wall looked remarkably inviting, and the light shining in from the balcony that ringed the curved tower wall let in a pleasing amount of light with the green curtains thrown open as they were. Glancing out onto the balcony, Lysse saw that a table had been overturned, and that what looked to be her new Prince's midday meal was strewn about the floor. Well, best begin now, she thought with a shrug.

Stepping out onto the balcony, Lysse was first hit with the stunning view. From this vantage, she could see the garden stretched out before her in a brilliant array of colors. She was very happy for the waist high balustrade that guarded the edge, keeping her from feeling to dizzy at the height. After sparing a few moments for the view, Lysse began setting the area to rights. She righted the table, wondering briefly how it had come to be knocked over in the first place, and gathered the scattered food onto the cast aside plate. The wine gave her pause for a moment, but she found a discarded napkin and sopped up the puddle neatly. She was beginning to feel almost happy as she went about such simple tasks in the bright, fresh air, when her eyes fell upon the leather book worked with gold letters sitting on a chair. 

Drawn as a magnet to iron, Lysse reached over and picked up the book. It was fanciful, but she would almost swear she could feel power pulsing from its pages. Turning it in her hands, she let her fingers trace the runes along the spine. "Summoning, Transformation, and Teleportation" the title read in ancient runes. A magic book then! It stood to reason. Everyone knew that Prince Loki was a powerful sorcerer, second only to his mother and maybe not even to her. Still, she had only ever come in contact with a handful of magic books before. Her knowledge of the ancient writing was strictly from historical archives. She had never actually had the chance to peruse one before. Would it be so wrong to open this one? Just to take a peak?

Unable to resist, Lysse opened the book to a random page. The illustrations were beautiful, filled with bright bouquets of flowers. The spell itself seemed simple enough. She wasn't entirely sure of one of the words, but there were enough she recognized that she thought she could infer what it was from context. The flowers were quite lovely; they would make an elegant addition to the table before her. Really, what harm could it do? It was not as though she expected anything to actually happen. Drawing herself up to her full (but still sadly diminutive) height, Lysse waved her arm before her like a street corner performer. As she finished the last word with a grand flourish, pink petals came raining down upon her. Lysse laughed in delight at the unexpected shower. It might not have been what she was aiming for, but it was far better than the nothing she had been expecting!

"Well,” she heard a voice from inside drawl, “aren’t you just full of surprises.”

Lysse let out a shriek and spun around to see Prince Loki staring at her, eyes intense and dark. Feeling a strange dark warmth seep into her body as he held her with a look, Lysse sank to her knees. Slowly, deliberately, he crossed the living room and walked out onto the balcony to stand before her. Finally unable to hold his gaze any longer, she dropped her eyes to the ground drew a deep breath.

"Forgive me, Your Highness," she whispered, all of the daring she had just felt upon doing the spell seeping out of her.

"So you are my new maid," he purred, as if she had not spoken. Reaching down, he grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and raised her head, looking at her as though she were some sort of arcane puzzle.

"Yes, Your Highness," she gulped, grasping for the power of speech. "And please, accept my humble thanks. I will do everything in my power to repay you."

"Oh, I have no doubt of that," he answered with the barest trace of a grin. "And it seems that everything in your power might be quite a bit indeed. The mind begins to reel at all the things you might do for me."

Lysse was suddenly acutely aware of her position on the floor before him. Of how close he was standing, and of where, exactly, her head was in relation to his body. Her mouth went dry as all the moisture in her seemed to sink instantly lower, and she was hit with simultaneous and conflicting urges to run away and to move just those few inches forward and rub up against him like a cat. Fortunately for her, fear kept her stationary under his intense perusal as her heart raced in her chest.

"Very well," he said after a moment in clipped tones, dropping her chin and stepping away abruptly. "I have never had a personal maid before. Your name is Lysse, I believe?"

"Yes, Your Highness," she breathed.

"Alright, Lysse, let's go over the rules."

Dropping back into the chair with his legs spread wide, Loki steepled his fingers and thought for a moment. Lysse was intensely relieved at the distance between them, and yet at the same time aware of a strange bereft feeling. Even a foot or more apart, she could still feel the energy he exuded, all coiled and ready to be tapped into at a moment's notice. It was enticing and terrifying all at once.

"I keep my rooms neat and orderly," he said, tapping his fingers together as spoke. "I suppose I will leave it to you now to make my bed in the morning and gather my clothing, though I may well forget and do it myself. I _do not_ particularly like mornings, so you will not disturb me until I have risen on my own. I suggest you make a habit of rising on the later side, as I keep rather long night time hours. Once I have woken, you will fetch me my morning meal - the kitchen knows what I prefer. This will save me from having to eat a cold breakfast that has been waiting in the hall for hours. I divide my days between study, which is done here, training, which obviously is done on the pitch, and court duties, such as are appointed me. When I am here, you will be quiet and not interrupt me. I require concentration for my work. When I am called to court I may take you with me, once we have found suitable clothing for you."

Lysse flushed as his eyes raked over her hurriedly tied together dress and his lip curled. Did he have his own household uniform then? She knew his brother and parents all did, but she could not recall ever having seen anyone dressed in his colors.

"When I am out training, or at a function where I do not need you," he continued, "you time is your own. You may work on tasks here in the rooms, though I cannot imagine there will be many, or you may find other ways to occupy your time. Is all this understood?"

"Yes, Your Highness. Thank you, Your Highness."

"Prince Loki is fine," he sighed, standing and making a gesture for her to do the same before adding a perfunctory, "come."

Lysse tripped behind him as he returned inside. Walking to a door in the far wall, he produced a small gold key and opened it. As Lysse followed him inside her jaw dropped to the floor. Wall to wall shelves lined three sides of the large sized room, and everyone of them was covered in books. Lysse felt as though she had gone to Vallhalla. With a small smile at this reaction, Loki gestured to the shelves on his left.

"These books," he told her, "are to be read only in these rooms. The ones to the right you are free to take where you like, as long as you return them in the condition you found them. Those," here he glared at her and then at the smaller case next to the desk across from them, "are not to be touched under any circumstances. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Prince Loki," she said with wide eyed reverence. All of these books, and she was free to read among all of them, or almost all, as she liked?

"I am not playing in this," he said sternly, stepping between her and the shelves she was regarding so covetously. "Some of those books are increadably dangerous, not just for the reader but for all of Asgard. Touch them and I will know. And I will make you wish I had left you to the tender mercies of your thuggish guards.”

Lysse swallowed hard and nodded her head again, voice gone from his fierceness. 

"Very well," Loki sighed again. "I am to attend my Father in the great hall this evening, and you are not fit to attend dressed as you are. You may read or rest while you wait for me to come back, and we will continue this then. I will send to have your things brought up from the servants quarters, if you have any."

"My things?" Lysse parroted dumbly. "Am I... am I not to be returning there to sleep, My Prince?"

A slow, evil smile spread over Loki's face, and Lysse began to realize why all the other maids feared him. It was not  _quite_ fear though that seeped through her body. More like tingly excitement that started in her chest and ran straight down between her legs. Panic told her to draw back, to run away, but her feet kept her glued to the spot as he took the one step necessary to tower above her.

"Why no, little sparrow," he told her, bending down to purr into her ear. "You'll be sleeping here. Why? Don't you want to?"

A thousand answers flew into her mind, but not a single one could she say out loud before the prince. As her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, Loki chuckled and winked at her.

"You are delightfully easy to discombobulate, little sparrow," he laughed. "Come, I will show you to your room."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our leads get to know each other as they settle in to life together.

Lysse lounged on the large green sofa, a soft smile on her lips and a small book lying on her stomach. There was something so bittersweet about finishing a novel. A sense of satisfaction, laced through with a hint of sorrow that one had to let go of the friends made on the journey. She also always experienced a silly fear that once the cover closed something unforeseen would happen to spoil the happily ever after she had just experienced with them.

“You are a ridiculous, fanciful girl, Lyssette,” She chided herself aloud. “You know very well that no such people exist!”

She often talked to herself out loud when she was alone. It was a habit begun in her youth that she had never managed to outgrow. Absurdly, she also tended to address herself with her full, formal name, a thing that only her grandfather had ever done. She missed him, with his gentle eyes and love of learning. Maybe that was why she spoke to herself in such a manner. 

In the week that Lysse had been in Loki’s employ, she had become more content than she had been since her world had come crashing down around her a year ago as she was tossed out of the university. The five rooms - livingroom, study, bath, her small chamber, and the large bedroom it attached to where Loki slept - were easy enough to keep clean. Unlike Fandrall, Loki seemed to like everything precisely in place, and took pains to keep it so. True to his prediction, he often made his own bed before leaving his sleeping quarters, and only once had he failed to toss his worn clothing in the basket provided for it. Some light dusting, a scouring of the bathroom, and a sweep and mop of the floors had been all the cleaning she was required to do. For the supposed God of Chaos, he was very orderly, she thought with a smile. From his environment to his appearance, everything was always neat and tidy.

Although, she had to amend as her mind wandered, the way he looked in the morning was different. The first day she had been sitting there, diligently polishing his silver tea service, when he stumbled out of his bedroom bleary eyed and hair mussed. His chest was bare, lean muscles rippling beneath pale skin. His lower half was clad only in soft green linen pants, bare feet making no noise as he padded into the room. It was hard to say which of them had been more surprised when Lysse looked up, saw him in his half naked glory, and dropped the creamer with a shriek. Loki, who had obviously in that moment forgotten her very existence, had let out a startled cry of his own before summoning a pair of knives from who knows where. By the time they each calmed down and Loki had vanished the daggers, Lysse was thoroughly embarrassed. It hadn't helped matters when, not wanting to meet his vaguely accusatory gaze, she had found her eyes following the light trail of hair on his hard, slender waist, down to where his green sleep pants were tenting in the most insistent way. Lysee was convinced that nothing in her life would ever embarrass her more, and yet she could not look away from the obvious sign of her Prince's morning arousal.

"Getting an eyeful, sparrow?" he asked, a smug tone in his voice as he ran his hand absently over his impressive bulge.

"Forgive me, my lord Prince," she managed to stammer out, face scarlet and eyes squeezing shut as there was no safe place to look.

"Best get used to it now," he murmured, seemingly as much to himself as to her, "it appears that I am to have no secrets from you."

"I will go fetch your breakfast," she blurted out, curtsying and bolting from the room to the sound of his amused chuckle.

She was in love with him already by then, of course, and even more so now. It was as inevitable as it was pathetically hopeless. He had saved both her body from rape and her soul from atrophy. To go from the despair of the servants quarters where thinking was as foreign as flying, to this tower of wonder where books abounded and mental tasks were completed (even if not by her) was like being reborn. It was a temple to knowledge, and Prince Loki was both her High Priest and her God. 

”Good lord, Lyssette, you sound like a tawdry novel!” She berated her brain, realizing she was blushing again just at the memory of that first morning. 

With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, she rose from her recumbent position. He would be coming back soon, and expecting tea and biscuits to be laid out, and she would rather die than disappoint him. Lighting the small burner beneath the teapot on the sideboard, Lysse opened the tin of baked goods she had stolen from the kitchen. Knowing her prince had a particular fondness for the chocolate and the spice treats, she laid three of each out onto the plate and set it on the table, chattering to herself as she did.

"You know that it is useless to hope for impossible things," she scolded herself. "Everyone has a place in this life. Much as we might not wish for the place we are given, it is our duty to accept it and make the most of it."

"I disagree," a low, musical voice said from behind her. Spinning and almost dropping the cup and saucer she was holding, Lysse saw Loki grinning in the doorway.

"You should wear a bell," she mumbled under her breath, before her shyness over took her and she dropped her eyes and bobbed a curtsey.

"What was that?" Loki, who evidently had remarkably good hearing along with everything else, asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Nothing, Prince Loki," she hastened to assure him. "I simply didn't realize you were home. Forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive," he waved away her concern, crossing to pilfer a biscuit from the plate and pop in in his mouth. "Who were you talking to just now?"

"Myself, Sire," she admitted, shame faced.

"Ah," he sat down at the table, stretching out his impossibly long legs. "I do that sometimes myself. It is, after all, difficult to find anyone else worth conversing with, is it not?"

Lysse didn't answer, but she was fairly certain he didn't expect her to. Finding safety in the simple task of preparing his tea, she tried not to moon too openly at his handsome face or perfect form as she worked beside him. She sometimes wondered if he knew how she felt, but if he did he at least had grace enough not to show it. She would be forever grateful for that kindness.

"I have something for you, sparrow," he said suddenly. "A gift, of sorts."

"My Prince, you have given me more than enough already," she protested quietly.

"Nonsense. I have given you barely anything. And in any case, this is a necessity."

With a flourish of his hand a pile of green fabric appeared. Smiling ironically, Loki held out the stack to her with a grand gesture.

"Behold, the uniform of house Loki, Odinson," he proclaimed. Lysse did not know why, but a note of bitterness had entered his voice at the pronouncement. "Wear it with pride. Or as much as can be engendered by such."

"I... I am beyond honored to wear your colors, Prince Loki," she said honestly.

Reaching out hesitantly, Lysse accepted the pile of dresses from him. The dark green fabric was of a fine material, much nicer than any of the dull grey servant's uniforms she had worn since becoming employed here. It felt soft and expensive to her hand, and she had to resist the urge to rub it against her face.

"Well, don't keep me in suspense," he teased, raising his tea to toast her. "Go try it on. The tailors insist it should fit you perfectly."

With a bubbling excitement she did her best to hid from his knowing eyes, Lysse bobbed another courtesy and all but ran into her small room, anxious to try on her new dress. This made it official. She was tied to him now. She had a real place in his life, if not in the one she secretly craved. After giving up hope all those months ago of ever finding any kind of peace, of place in this world, he had claimed her. It was not what she wanted, it could and would never be that, but it would be enough. She would make it enough.

***

Loki grinned indulgently as he sipped his tea and nibbled on his third biscuit. She was so excited by just a few paltry dresses. And not even the type of beautiful ball gowns that the women of his acquaintance would gush over, but a stack of identical uniforms of his household. The very idea of him having a uniform, or a household for that matter, was absurd to him. Still, he had spent a great deal of time designing the dresses, and he hoped that she would be pleased with the results.

It was a bit of a shock to him how quickly he had adjusted to the girl being here. He had worried that first night, when he came back to his rooms to find her asleep on his plush green sofa, the hastily modified dress she had been wearing coming apart in her sleep and providing him yet again with a tantalizing glimpse of the curve of her breasts. He could not afford a distraction now, of all times. He had his project to accomplish, and if he was to succeed he needed to concentrate. He could not have some chattering female disturbing his peace.

He need not have worried. With the exception of the belatedly amusing incident their first morning when he had barged in on her half undressed and sporting a painfully obvious erection, it had all gone smoothly. He did feel a bit sorry for the fright he had given the girl. He was not sure if it was the daggers he had pulled out hiding or his equally hard cock jutting out at her that had startled her the most. From the way her big eyes and lovely mouth had gaped at the tenting in his trousers, he suspected the latter. He had done his best to ignore the insistent twitching along his length, even running his hand along it to try and still the urgent command from his lower region to use those wide open lips of hers to relieve the night's lust. She was not here for that, he reminded himself. He would not lower himself to the level of the reprobates who used their servants to slake their baser desires.

Still, it gave him a smug feeling of satisfaction the way her eyes followed him when she thought he was not looking. He could feel them on him much of the time, staring at his face from behind her own book when he was reading, skimming along his body when he walked into the room. He liked that she so obviously found him attractive. He knew he would never be the hulking mass of muscle his brother was, and that to most of Asgard Thor was the example of manly perfection. It had been a long time now since he had tried to fill out his form with bulk, but the memory of those years of striving to pack on layers of muscle still could rub raw if he let them. It was not as though he were a weakling, and he had mental and arcane powers that few others could boast of, but it still was a sop to his ego that his little sparrow approved of his looks.

She was very much like a small bird. She would chirp away happily when she thought herself alone, but then instantly turn all silent flight when he entered. He was doing his best to give her space, not to force her to confide in him, but it was becoming more and more difficult. He  _knew_ she had a secret, it was printed in bright bold letters in her clever eyes, and he was determined to find out what it was. It was the least he deserved as recompense after rescuing her.

Not that he wasn't enjoying having her in his employ. There was something decadently... well,  _prince-like_ in having her to fetch his breakfast, prepare his afternoon tea, and wait on him as he ate. She had even found things to clean, her nominal purpose for being here, in his rooms. The rest of the time they read in companionable silence. He had started tracking the books she took from his shelves, startled by how quickly she devoured them. Perhaps there was a clue to her mystery in what she chose to read, but he had yet to discover it. In the week she had been with him, she had read two novels, a treaty on inter-realm adoption, and a shockingly graphic text on sacrificial rites. That discovery had truly startled him.

"What is bothering you?" he had asked one night, as they sat in his living room. Loki had been pouring over a trade charter Odin had assigned him, and Lysse was engrossed in a musty looking scroll he couldn't quite place.

"Nothing, Sire," she responded, as he knew she would.

"Sparrow," he sighed, rubbing his eyes, "you are thinking so hard that I can hear your brain. What is it?"

"What is a veilin athame?" she asked at last, raising her eyes from the scroll.

"What?" he sputtered, sure he must have heard her wrong.

"A veilin athame?" she repeated, much to his horror.

"Why in the Nine are you... what are you reading?"

"The Maenad Codex," she replied, scrunching up her little nose. "I've heard of an athame, of course, but never a  _veilin_ athame."

"I should hope not," he said with a bark of laughter. "A veilin athame is a ritual knife, enchanted to keep the victim from being aware of it until the Maenad, having driven her victim mad and rampant with lust, strikes down and severs his organs."

"His... organs?" she squeaked. "You mean?"

"I do," he nodded, watching her squirm. 

"Oh," she said faintly, putting the book away.

"Why are you reading the Maenad Codex?" he asked, getting up and crossing to take it from her hands. "I trust you were not intending to act out their rituals on me?"

He knew it was unfair to speak the words, as he did, with his head at her ear, almost purring them to her. The maenad, while deadly in the end, were known for working their magic of sexual ecstasy on their pray, some even willingly going to their death for the chance to first experience the pleasure they offered.

Lysse made a noise that he supposed was a denial and pulled back from him as his breath ghosted against her neck.

"So why that scroll?" he asked again, sighing as she just shook her head.

As he had walked away, he could have sworn he heard her mutter "because it was there," under her breath. It was not the first or the last time he had caught her saying words she obviously meant to keep to herself. His hearing was remarkably good, a trait he had worked to develop as a young boy forever on the receiving end of bullying. It was another piece of her strange puzzle. She would make these quick, irreverent comments when she believed no one else would hear, but keep mum and meek when she feared an audience. Just this afternoon, he had sworn she grumbled something about getting him a bell to wear. As much as he craved quiet, Loki found himself wishing to bring out the saucy creature he sensed was hiding beneath the timid servant.

"My Lord Prince," he heard her breath now from  the other room, "it is beautiful! Truly, it is too nice for me to wear."

As Lysse walked into the room in her uniform, Loki was forced to agree with her. In the rough grey dress of the general servants, she had been pretty enough to draw the attention of Fandrall, one of the most discerning eyes for beauty in Asgard, and the opportunist guards at the gate, but still looked enough of a mouse to not draw the common eye. Green however, was apparently her color. The deep emerald color made her eyes sparkle and brought roses to her cheeks. The design Loki had been at such pains to devise stretched tight against her breasts, the gold embroidered snake twining across the bodice accentuating her curved body in ways that made his mouth go dry. She was a vision, and would never pass unnoticed in the halls again. The thought of all of the other men, warriors, lords, upper servants, ogling her as she walked down the hall or stood behind his chair in the banquet hall filled Loki with a stabbing irritation.

"Thank you so much, My Prince," she gushed, sinking to her knees next to where he sat and, blushing, raising his hand to kiss the back.

In the face of her happiness, Loki found the sharp command he was about to make for her to change back died on his lips. Swallowing the gall that threatened to choke him, Loki reached out and brushed a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

"You look lovely, Sparrow," he told her honestly. "You will bring honor to my house."

As she smiled at his shoes, Loki forced the misgiving away. She was just a servant, if a pretty, intelligent one. It was no concern of his if others admired her. He would be happy for her if she caught someone’s eye. He was the God of lies, after all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lysse is finally ready to venture out of Loki's rooms.

"Be warned, Loki, I am giving serious consideration to calling you out."

As the smooth voice spoke in his ear, Loki felt a firm hand come down onto his shoulder. Startled from his thoughts, Loki looked up to see Fandrall standing next to him. The blond had a half smile on his face as he stared across the room. Following his gaze, Loki was not surprised to see Lysse waiting impatiently for the pitcher of wine she had run off to fetch for him. She was certainly worth staring at. In her new uniform, hair brushed to a shine and pulled out of the way with the golden ribbon he had provided, eyes bright and well rested, she was a far cry from the timid little ghost who had first arrived in his service. She drew more than a little attention as she tapped her foot like a tiny empress, hands on hips and eyes flashing.

"What ever could I have done to upset you?" Loki asked with an innocent smile, as though he didn't know.

"Steeling that girl out from under me," Fandrall complained, pouting, "and just hours before I was about to have my first taste of her, too!"

"I did no such thing," Loki replied, feeling his hand clench at the thought of Fandrall sampling his little Sparrow, and forcing it to relax. "You were there as well, and had every opportunity to reclaim her yourself. Although, remind me, wasn't she in the process of running away from your... charms when we happened upon her?"

"You can be damn sure I would have dragged her back if I knew she would clean up like that," the other sighed, watching as Lysse, finally in possession of wine, turned to make her way back. "Who did you have design that dress, Loki? It certain accentuates all the right places."

Smiling thinly, Loki ignored the man's questions as they watched his servant thread her way through the crowded assembly room back to his side. He was not about to admit that he had personally spent hours deciding just how to make the serpent twine around her breasts to achieve the right effect, or that he had been able to tell the seamstress the exact size of her waist just from having looked at it and imagined how it would feel encircled by his large hands. 

Loki watched as Lysse drew near. She raised her eyes and saw that her former master was now standing with her present lord. The small smile that had been playing about her lips froze in place as her face turned white and then quickly red. Eyes going down immediately, she shuffled a bit before him. 

"Lysse, my dear, you do look lovely," Fandrall drawled, holding his goblet out for her to fill, eyes greedily taking in her cleavage.

"Indeed," Loki intervened, saving her from having to answer, "green is her color, don't you think? One would almost think she was made to serve me."

With a smug smile, he extended his own glass and basked in the appreciative look she threw him from beneath her lowered lashed. He had been trying his best not to think of the various ways he would like her to serve him, but ever since the night he had given her the dresses, he could not get the image out of his mind. She had looked so lovely, down on her knees before him, eyes glowing as she pressed her lips to his hand. The hardening in his trousers had been as sudden as it was insistent. It had taken all of his will power not to tear them open and thrust himself into her sweet mouth that sat so prettily at just the right level to receive his length. Even now, just at the thought, he could feel himself begin to stiffen. He took a long swallow of wine to distract himself from how her anxious breathing made her bodice strain even more over the expanse of her bosom. 

"I was just telling Prince Loki how upset I was at him for stealing you, Lysse," Fandrall told her, trying to turn her attention. "What do you say, pretty? Would you like to return to my service?"

Loki watched intently as Lysse opened and closed her mouth, trying to form words. Part of him wanted to take pity on the girl and answer for her, but the other part was too interested in what she would say. He knew many ladies, servants and well born alike, would claw and fight to have the handsome lord look at them the way he was looking at Lysse now. Would she succumb his charm and looks as they all seemed to? Fandrall was second only to Thor in his success with the fairer sex, after all.

"I am content where I am, My Lord," she finally choked out, barely above a whisper. "That is, if My Lord Prince Loki still wishes for me to serve him."

Her lord prince wished for her to serve him right here and now, Loki thought as he suppressed a groan. He was going to have to find some way to banish these thoughts of her before they embarrassed him. He took great pride in the fact that, unlike his brother and the other lords of his ilk, he never forgot his place so much as to dabble with the help. It was not fair to them, and not in keeping with his own sense of his honor. 

"I do indeed wish it, Sparrow," he said, realizing that he had been silent too long, and when her stricken eyes had flown to his. "Now, why don't you run along back to my chambers and prepare things for me. I am to spend the night with my brother and our friends, and we will not be needing you to attend us."

He certainly did not intend to have her attend them. The way Fandrall was eyeing her like a meal, he doubted she'd make it through the first hour without being devoured. Once Thor arrived, it would only get worse. He had yet to see the maiden who could resist both his brother and their friend when they decided to turn on the seduction. The last thing he needed was to have the harmony of his household interrupted as one or the other of them dallied with his maid and made her by turns forgetful and absent from their attentions, and, inevitably, distraught when they bored with her and tossed her aside. Lysse deserved better than that. The thought that there might be other reasons he resented the idea of their bedding her he ruthlessly pushed out of his mind.

With a grateful look, Lysse began to go. She had taken a few steps only when she turned back around, eyes reluctantly seeking out Fanrall's rather than Loki's. As she bit her lower lip and returned to stand before the other man, Loki felt his stomach turn. Had she changed her mind? Did she desire, after all, to return to Fandrall and share his bed? 

"My Lord Fandrall," she spoke, seeming to force the words out, "please allow me to apologize. I should never have bolted from your service in such a way without proper notice, and I most certainly should not have stolen from you. You treated me with kindness, and did not deserve such repayment at my hands. I have no way to make amends, but hope that you will find it in you to forgive me for my trespasses."

"How could I be angry at one so sweet?" Fandrall said after a stunned moment, reaching down to grasp her chin between his fingers. "As for amends, well... perhaps something can be arranged. I will discuss it with your new master."

Loki saw Lysse's face blanch on the last of this and balled his hand into a fist. He knew what Fandrall was implying, and obviously so did she. It would  _not_ be happening.

"That is best left between us, don't you think?" Loki asked, raising his eyebrow. "Now run along, Sparrow. I will not tell you again."

With a relieved curtsey, Lysse took him literally and all but ran towards the exit, muttering apologies to people she bumped into as she went. When she was out of sight and earshot, Loki turned to Fandrall to see the other man smiling covetously after her.

"Get the thought out of you head right now," he warned through clenched teeth. "It is never going to happen."

"Oh, calm yourself, Loki," Fandrall laughed. "I hadn't realized you'd already bedded the girl. Of course I wouldn't presume to intrude until you were done with her. I am rather surprised, though. I never knew you to screw the help before."

"And I am not now," he seethed, eyes narrowing.

"Oh, come now," his friend said with skepticism. "I saw how she looked at you. And, not to be crude, but if you don't calm down a bit your pants are going to burst open of their own accord. Not that I blame you, she is a rare find."

"She is my servant, and under my protection," he ground out, mentally willing his cock to go down.

"What's all this about?" Thor boomed, as he and their other three friends, Volstagg, Hogun, and Lady Sif arrived with smiles.

"Loki's new maid," Fandrall filled them in as Loki ground his teeth. "And whether or not he's bedding her yet." 

"Loki has a maid?" Volstagg asked, surprised. "He has actually found someone willing to trudge up all those stairs to his hallowed sanctuary at the top of the world?"

"You remember," Fandrall turned to Thor, "the one that worked for me until she was caught stealing."

"Yes! The one we came upon getting tupped in Mother's garden!" Thor laughed heartily. "That's right, you did order her brought to your chambers, didn't you, brother. I thought she was just another broken bird you meant to save. Never tell me you have let her make her nest in your rooms! Wasn't she a thief?"

"A misunderstanding," Loki said, wishing them all to Hel. "She has proven herself a loyal and valuable servant."

"I'm sure," Fandrall smirked.

"She was a bit drab, if I recall," Thor mused, "though Fandrall had been telling me she was comely."

"You should see her now," Fandrall all but drooled. "He put her in some decent clothes, and now she would give any girl in the palace a run for her money."

"Well, I look forward to meeting her again," Thor smiled good naturedly. "Now, let's go get drunk."

"I thought you'd never ask," Loki sighed in relief.

***

When Lysse got back to the tower rooms she practically fell down onto the sofa in relief. She had truly believed for a moment that Loki meant to give her back to Lord Fandrall, and her heart had stopped in her chest. She knew very well what the blond lord wanted from her, he had never made any secret of it. Surely her Prince would not allow him to act on his desires.

She had been feeling so proud, out for the first time in her new uniform. It was silly, but somehow being marked as Loki's had given her confidence she had not felt in a long time. He was a Royal Prince, after all, and he had chosen her to represent him, never mind the reasons. The looks of the other servants at her green dress emblazoned with a gold serpent had ranged from envious to comically fearful on her behalf. She could hear some of the other maids whispering behind their hands and had to laugh. If they only knew how well she was treated, how little work she was actually made to do and how much free time she was given, they would be clawing her eyes out in jealousy. Of course, none of them would have the sense to fill that time with books and writing as she did. Was that why Loki was so kind to her? Because she shared his fondness for knowledge?

When she went into the kitchens to fetch his food for dinner in the great hall, she had a hard time controlling a giggle at the pitying looks she was given. Mischievously, Lysse found herself concocting a story to tell them, should they ask. A tale of horrors at how the Dark Prince was using her savagely, perhaps drinking her blood in a frenzied rage at night. They would all believe it, she could tell from their looks. People would always distrust those they did not understand, and Loki was certainly an enigma. The fact of his sorcerous abilities only made it worse, she knew. They had not seen the kindness in him, but then they did not take the trouble to look.

It was so easy for her to see it, she thought as she stood up and made her way into his bedroom to turn down the covers and put out his sleep pants. He had been nothing to her  _but_ kind. He even put up with her tongue tied ways in his presence. She knew he had questions, he was far too intelligent not to, but he never pressed her for origins, or how she had come to be employed as a lowly servant in the palace. She was more grateful for that than she could say. He would certainly never believe the lies she had told the beleaguered Head of House about coming from a small village and wanting to make a better life for herself in the capital. He was far too shrewd for that.

And it was too risky to tell anyone, even him, the truth. Even though she hated lying to him, she needed anonymity. It was the only way to stay safely away from those who sought her. She had hoped that she could loose herself in the swirling mass of people who lived in the Palace of Asgard. For a time it had worked, until Fandrall had spied her in the hall and claimed her for his rooms. She knew she was more at risk of discovery the higher she climbed socially. Working as she did now for a prince was dangerous in itself. Still, she could not regret the fates that had brought her here.

She had fallen asleep on the couch, a volume of Dark Elf Myths next to her, when a loud scuffle outside the tower door made her startle awake. It was late, almost dawn from the way the light was beginning to filter in through the large curved window behind her. Loki had insisted that she need not stay up for him on nights like this when he was dragged out drinking with his friends, but she felt it her duty to do so none-the-less. Now, wiping the sleep from her eyes, she heard again a loud noise just beyond the door. Cautiously, she got to her feet and padded over to the entrance.

"Who is there?" she asked through the wooden barrier.

"It is your Prince, Little Sparrow," came a slurred voice beyond. "Open up and let me in!"

With a small smile tugging at her lips, Lysse unlocked the door and pulled it open. The scene before her was one she had never thought to see. There stood Loki, leaning against the far wall, his normally perfect hair falling down into his face. He had obviously tugged his tunic open, as it gaped to display a large expanse of pale muscled chest, and he carried his boots negligently in one hand.

"Your Highness!" she squeaked, gaping at the sight. "Are you alright?"

"I am fine," he slurred, staggering into the room and dropping his boots haphazardly onto the floor. "Why are you awake? You are supposed to be asleep, Sparrow!"

"I was asleep," she told him with a hint of a laugh. "But fortunately for you I woke up to let you in."

"Were you in bed?" he asked, eyes blinking owlishly at her.

"I was not, My Prince," she answered as she tried to direct him to weave his way into his bedroom. "I fell asleep reading on the couch."

"You read," he told her, staring. "You read, little Sparrow. Even ancient runes. How is that? How does a servant know how to read magical texts?"

"You are drunk, Your Highness," she said, evading the question.

"I certainly tried," he answered, collapsing onto his bed and bringing her halfway down with him.

Lysse swallowed hard as she found herself half sitting half lying on top of Loki on his large bed. Her hand rested on the cool skin of his chest, and his face was mere inches away from hers. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, and felt intoxicated herself from the combination of the scent and his nearness. 

"You do not look like a servant," he told her, blinking into her eyes. "You do not act like a servant. You do not  _feel_ like a servant."

On the last words, Loki's hand slid up from her waist to gently squeeze one of her breasts and Lysse gasped as a wave of desire unlike anything she had ever known pulsed through her. She had to put a stop to this. Right now, before things got out of control and they both had cause for regret in the morning. If only she didn't want him quite so much.

"And how is a servant supposed feel, My Prince," she asked with a forced laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

"I don't know," he confessed. "I've never felt one before. Never desired to. Before."

"Well, no reason to start now," she said, attempting to ignore the last word that he most likely did not really mean to say anyway. "Come on, let's get you into bed."

"What a lovely idea," he smiled, a happy look on his face. 

With strength that would never cease to amaze her, Loki wrapped his arms around her and rolled them over until he was lying properly in his bed on one side, Lysse pressed inescapably to his chest. With the hand not holding her fast, Loki brushed her hair out of her face and caressed her cheek. Against her better senses, Lysse found herself leaning in to his touch, closing her eyes as his fingers traced her face.

"You made it rain flowers on my balcony," he whispered, voice soft in her ear. "How did you manage that, little Sparrow?"

"Luck," she breathed, struggling to keep her composure. "I just read the words and they appeared."

"That's not how magic works," he shook his head.

"I don't know what to tell you," she laughed, hoping against hope he would forget all of this in the morning, knowing she never would.

"The truth," he replied, staring straight into her eyes. "You could tell me the truth. But it's alright, Sparrow. No one ever does."

As she watched in stunned horror, a small tear formed in the corner of Loki's eye. Leaning forward, he softly pressed his lips to hers and she thought she might die of longing.

"Stay here, Sparrow," he asked, his voice an entreaty. "Stay here with me. Don't leave me."

"I am not going anywhere, my prince," she told him, fighting back a tear of her own. 

"Thank you," he whispered, tightening his hold on her.

As she lay there, wrapped in his strong embrace, Lysse heard Loki's breathing even out as sleep took him. She could not move even if she wanted to, though in truth there was no where in the world she would rather be. She would worry about the repercussions tomorrow. For now, she closed her eyes, trying to impress on her memory the way his body felt held so tightly against her. To store away every inch of soft skin and hard muscle pressing into her, fitting so perfectly against her own body. As a tear finally made its way softly down her cheek at how right it felt to be lying in his arms, she closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all who are reading! I haven't written something this fluffy/angsty in a while, and it's actually kind of fun to write the FEELS! Hope you are enjoying it. I love reading your comments, and seeing what you think about developments. I know I am an erratic poster, but getting comments really spurs me to write more often! Love you all! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after... how will they react?

Lysse woke the next morning with the most confusing mixture of guilt and glow she had ever experienced. As her mind first began to surface from the haze of sleep, she was struck immediately by the wonderful comfort of the bed on which she lay. It was not that her own small cot wasn't perfectly adequate, but nothing in her life could compare to the pillowy soft mattress that made up Prince Loki's gigantic bed. She knew instantly where she was, and the knowledge sent a wave of desire down through her. His bed. The idea itself was painfully erotic, and that was before she even considered the fact that his supple body was molded to her own.

He had been so drunk when he came home last night, so unlike himself. When he had dragged her into bed with him and pleaded with her to stay, she had had no choice to agree. Her empathy would not let her do anything else. Once he had passed out, she had been truly trapped by the unyielding arms holding her firm to him. If she had managed to fall asleep then, she could have quite guiltlessly claimed to have spent the night in his bed through no fault of her own.

Unfortunately for Lysse's conscience, that had not been the case. A half hour or so later, as she lay in his embrace unable to slow the beating of her heart enough for sleep, Loki had risen from his stupor and stumbled into the bathroom to relieve himself. That had been her chance, she knew it then. He was not really awake, she could easily have slipped out of his bed and to her own room before he staggered back, most likely unaware that she had ever been there at all.

She should have done it. Instead, she had loosened the laces of her dress, and then reached under to undo her corset and slide it off to toss next to the bed. By the time she had finished making herself more comfortable, Loki had returned, shockingly devested of the rest of his clothing, and climbed back into the huge bed. With a noise that was half moan, half growl, he had reached for her and pulled her back against his body, spooning her from behind as his hand dipped into the front of her dress and his leg parted hers to nestle in between them. Sighing contentedly into her hair, he had quickly fallen back to sleep.

Apparently, he had not moved all night, as it was in this position she found herself upon waking. One large hand was in possession of her breast, thumb resting just atop her nipple, and his ridiculously long bare legs were all entangled with her own, her raised skirt offering very little sop to her modesty. Even more startling than any of these developments, she could feel his arousal, hard and proud against her lower back. 

There was something about knowing he was naked, she thought. Even though her back was to him and her dress kept her from feeling the skin of his muscled chest and protruding cock, she knew they were there, unclothed, in all their glory. Her quick glimpse last night before he climbed back into bed next to her had been enough to imprint their image in her brain, and she shivered at the thought that all that hard beauty was only a whisper away. 

“It is not my habit to debauch the palace servants,” a low voice, rough with morning, said in her ear, “but if you continue to wiggle about like that, you may become the first. There are limits, after all, to what the male body can withstand, particularly in the morning.”

***

His head was pounding, a dull thud that made waking torturous. A fuzzy substance seemed to have taken up residence in his mouth. He had a strong suspicion that any attempt to open his eyes would result in a spinning nausea. And yet despite all of this, despite even the crushing information that had been dealt him like a blow the night before by his brother, Loki was suffused with the most peculiar sense of contentment. He wished he could think clearly enough to figure out why. Perhaps, a stray functioning brain cell suggested, it had something to do with the woman snuggled up to him in his bed?

Wait, that could not be right! Loki, as a hard and fast rule,  _never_ brought women back to his tower sanctuary. When he felt the need to relieve his urges, it was always conducted elsewhere, whether in the woman’s chambers on the occasions he had engaged in mutually satisfying trysts with ladies of the court, or more frequently in the exclusive brothels that catered to wealthy clientele like himself, who preferred their liaisons to occur unencumbered by any troublesome attachments. He certainly had never let a woman into his own bed before! 

It was his bed, he was certain of that. It was warm and soft, just as he preferred. Just like the woman currently wrapped in his arms. Thinking back with no little pain, he remembered staggering up the seemingly endless steps of the tower, anxious to be in his safe haven so that he could digest the latest developments. He had taken off his boots on the way up, he seemed to recall, so that he would not wake Lysse when he came in...

Oh sweet Valhalla no! Like a sudden deluge, the events of the rest of the night hit him. His inability to locate his key, Lysse letting him in and directing him to his bed... and his pathetic, needy entreaty to her to stay with him. She had promised that she would, of course. What else could she have done? Even after he had pawed at her, had taken her lips in a chaste but insistent kiss, she would have had no choice but to stay. He was a Prince. Her master. She was bound by the rules of their society to obey his whims. And that meant that the full breast now cupped in his hand, the round curve of ass now held against his groin, and the graceful back against which his unclothed and very erect cock was now pressing, all belonged to his little Sparrow. 

He was naked. The realization suddenly struck him. Thinking back painfully again, he could not recall how he had become so. The fact that she was not was a small mercy. At least he had not assaulted her in his drunkenness. He did not think he had, at any rate. Surely he would remember that.

He had pictured it so many times, her with him in this bed, feeling her body pressed to his as it was now. Carefully and slowly removing each piece of her clothing until she lay naked and trembling to his eyes. The Norns knew how often the image had leapt unbidden to his mind. How he had stroked himself to an unsatisfactory climax multiple times over the past week while his thoughts filled with how her skin would taste, how her mouth would open to his hungry tongue, and how her sweet cunt would feel as it stretched open to take in the full length of his cock, hard and swollen with his desire for her as he pushed into her wet center.

He could feel that center now, warm and inviting only inches away from his straining erection. There was a heat radiating from her that made his mouth water with the urge to lift the skirt that was all which was separating him from that often dreamed of paradise, and sink to his hilt into her depths. It was so near, so accessible, and so forbidden to him by every code he held himself to. 

He knew the moment she woke up. Her body was so melded to his that their heart beats had synched to each other. But as awareness seeped into her brain, he felt the steady drum of her blood accelerate. A bit frantically Loki tried to decide what to do. Should he pretend to stay asleep but loosen his arms, allowing her to slip from the room, and then feign ignorance of the whole disgraceful episode? Should he turn the entire situation to her fault? Berate her for having the audacity to remain in his room, in his  _bed_ once he had no more use of her? It would be easy enough to cow her in this manner. She was in no position to argue with him. It would be cruel, but also an efficient way to make sure that nothing like this ever happened again. Should he, a rogue thought suggested, throw caution to the wind and proceed to do all the things to her lovely person that his body was presently screaming out for him to do? Seduce her consent out of her, and proceed to fuck away all of the disappointment of last night. He throbbed at the very idea, so tempted to loose himself in her.

As all of the options flit through his head, a shudder ran from Lysse's shoulders all the way down to her tight little bottom, which shimmied back and forth over his cock in ways designed to test the willpower of even one as self possessed as Loki.

“It is not my habit to debauch the palace servants,” he grumbled through clenched teeth, “but if you continue to wiggle about like that, you may become the first. There are limits, after all, to what the male body can withstand, particularly in the morning.”

Lysse instantly went so absolutely still that he would have laughed it he did not think it would hurt both her feeling and his head. Slowly, with great reluctance, he withdrew his hand from her bodice, unable to resist running the pads of his fingers over her jutting nipples as he did so. The little gasp she made at the friction did nothing to aid the grip Loki was keeping on his body, and he counted to ten before attempting any other movement or speech.

"You make an excellent pillow, little Sparrow," he told her, in what he hoped was a light, casual tone. "I hope I did not crush you during the night."

"N-not at all, Your Highness," she stumbled, and even though his eyes were closed and her back to him, he could  _hear_ the blush in her voice.

"You have my thanks for seeing me to bed last night, Lysse," he said matter-of-factly. "I promise, I will not make it a habit to come home in that condition. You make take the morning off, if you like, as compensation for the imposition."

"There was no imposition," she managed to lie, heart still racing and body still pressed to his. She was so sweet, his little bird. "You do not need to compensate me."

"None the less," he insisted a business like manner. "I insist that you be compensated for your service."

With great reluctance, Loki began to untangle his legs from hers, allowing his long limbs to slide against hers, enjoying despite his best intentions the feel of her supple, naked legs as they moved along his. Rolling onto his back with one arm over his eyes to shield him from reality, he at last freed her completely from the tight hold he had kept on her body. 

"Thank you, My Lord Prince," she said in a small voice, sounding almost hurt to his ears.

The sadness in her voice coupled with the aching loneliness inside of him, and Loki almost reached out to pull her back again. All the Gods, but he wanted to. To see if they could fill the empty places within each other. But Lysse was a servant.  _His servant_. He refused to treat her as a whore, and she could never be more than that in the world in which they lived.

"You will be glad of the time off soon enough," he said brusquely. "We all will be working overtime for the next two weeks, so best store up rest while we can."

Lysse had removed herself from the huge bed, and at last Loki opened his eyes to look at her. As expected, he had to take a moment when he did to fight down the wave of nausea that his hangover was causing him. He could of course, magic it away, but he perversely refused the easy cure. After allowing himself to overindulge, and then treating Lysse so appallingly, he deserved all the pain shooting through his skull and more.

He was used to her waking before him, as most people did, and therefore being dressed and groomed by the time he set eyes on her. He had never seen her so deliciously rumpled. The first day, of course, she had been in a state of dishabille, but that had been after severe trauma. The way she looked now was simply... bedded. Her hair was mussed and curling wildly around her face in no discernable order. Her dress had been undone in the back, and so drooped low over her uncorseted bosom, allowing him to see a good deal of her breasts, along with the nipples that poked out through the soft material of the bodice. She was the most enchanting woman he had ever clapped eyes on.

"There is to be a celebration, Sparrow," he told her, clearing his throat and trying to be nonchalant in this.  

"What sort of celebration?" she asked, bending to pick up her corset and giving him another excellent angle from which to observe her. He tried to use it distract him from the news he was now to impart to her. To keep it from stinging once again the way it had last night.

"The coronation of a new King," he said breezily. "Odin is stepping aside in a ceremony to be held at month's end."

"Oh, My Lord Prince!" Lysse's eyes went wide. "Is it to be you?"

Loki laughed harshly at her question. There was a time when he had hoped she would be right. From his boyhood, he had been told over and over that he was born to be a king. He and Thor both had been taken into the Vault of their father and told all the stories of their lineage, all the deeds of the Kings who came before them. It was in both of them, their Father had insisted, the mantle of a King. They had only to strive for it. 

Oh, how he had striven! And never once had it been enough. No matter that Loki was a master tactician, that he could out-strategize any of Odin's most seasoned generals. Never mind that he had learned the most difficult of sorceries from Frigga, sometimes even completing spells their Mother herself could not perfect. And no matter that he always strove to put the realm first, instead of his own swaggering ego. Yes, Loki had an ego. How could he not? He was a King, or should be. A God. And he had worked his whole life to comport himself as one. He did not endanger all around him to prove his superiority in battle. He did not challenge any and all the moment they offered a perceived slight, thwarting negotiations out of pique. And he did not tumble into bed with everything that wore a skirt in a desperate effort to show off his virility. None of this had mattered. Indeed, if anything it had worked against him in the eyes of Odin, Allfather.

Thor was given Mjolnir, the mighty hammer. Thor was tasked with leading the armies of Asgard against their foes. And in two weeks time, as if there had ever been any doubt, Thor would be made King of all the Nine Realms. Loki had never stood a chance against him, because Odin had never allowed him to. 

He would have to stand there, smiling, while his brother was granted the ultimate power in all their society. Loki loved his brother, he truly did. It was as hard not to love Thor as it was not to love an overgrown puppy. But he harbored no illusions about him. Thor's rule would be an unmitigated disaster. He was not ready, would never be ready as far as Loki was concerned. They were all destined to suffer because Odin, with a father's blindness, refused to see the truth of his first born.

"No, Sparrow," he replied at last with a grim smile. "Thought I am flattered you might think so. Thor will be King. Are we not all blessed?"

Loki didn't know if it was her discomfort at their morning situation, or an actual distaste for his brother, but the little servant looked to be feeling anything but blessed. Staring at her shoes, Lysse grimaced and tried to make her eyes hide the disapproval she obviously felt.

"What's wrong, little bird?" he asked. "Do you not approve of the choice?"

"It is not for me to second guess the Allfather's decisions," she answered primly.

"But?" he prompted.

"But if it were up to me," she said, looking up at him with fierce eyes, "I would have chosen you every time."

With a small bob of curtsey, Lysse turned and left Loki alone in his room to nurse his aches, both physical and those of his heart.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki struggles with both magic and his feelings for his Sparrow.

A bead of perspiration tickled as it made a zigzagging path down the side of Loki's face as he clenched his eyes in concentration. The air shimmered with a green aura. A low, persistent hum, felt as much as heard even to his excellent ear, vibrated through the clearing. He could do this. He must. He would. 

He didn't. Just as the power reached the point of culmination, it was as though some invisible hand had punctured it with a pin and all of the magic rushed out. With a bright flash of emerald, the spell fell apart.

"By all the demons in all the Hels!" Loki growled, taking the spell book in his hand and hurling it blindly across the rounded garden clearing in which he had been practicing.

"Loki, son of Odin!" a shocked and disappointed voice chided him. "You should be ashamed of yourself! I certainly taught you better than to so abuse your books! Especially one as rare and powerful as this! Where is your respect for knowledge?"

Ruthlessly stomping down the instinct to react like a guilty child with his hand in the cookie jar, Loki instead smiled and gave an overly grand, courtly bow in the direction of the lovely blond woman standing at the entrance to his hiding place.

"Hello Mother," he said blandly. "I didn't hear you approach."

"Obviously," she smiled, setting the book down next to him on the log onto which he flung himself. "I was not expecting to find you out here. What were you doing?"

"Working," he snapped, before taking a deep breath and running his hands through his hair. "Forgive me, Mother. I should not be taking out my frustrations on you, of all people."

"There is nothing to forgive," she said kindly, sitting neatly beside him. "May I be allowed to ask why you are working out here instead of in your chambers? Not that I don't love stumbling upon you, but..."

"But I am disturbing the peace of your sanctuary?" he finished for her with a slight half smile. "Again, I apologize. My rooms were feeling a bit... cramped, and since the day was so fine, I decided to practice out of doors."

In truth, he was hiding. Ever since his night, and morning, with Lysse in his bed, he had been unable to concentrate around her. It had been bad enough when all he had were his imaginings; now that he knew first hand how she felt in his arms, curled up alongside him all soft and lush, it was all he could think about. Worse still, he knew she was thinking of it as well. The roses in her cheeks every time she looked at him screamed louder than words where her mind had strayed to.

The self loathing and guilt he felt at his weakness was unbearable. He set such a large store by always being in control of every situation, and above all else in control of himself. And yet he had let his guard slip in an unforgivable fashion. She must loath him for his weakness. No wonder she was so embarrassed, she was forced to serve a weakling and a coward.

"Well, all the more lucky for me," his mother smiled, pushing a stray strand of hair out of his face. "Would it be too pushy of me to ask what Branwell's volume did to so offend you?"

"It's this blasted spell!" he groaned, lowering his head into his hands. "Every time I've almost mastered it, it disintegrates in my hands."

"Which spell?" she asked, sympathetically.

Loki narrowed his eyes. He loved and trusted his mother more than any one in all the worlds, but he could not talk to her. Not about this. 

"Never mind, forget I asked," Frigga laughed, raising her hands. "I know better than to expect answers from my secretive son."

"Thank you, Mother. You truly are the best of women."

"I know this isn't an easy time for you Loki," she sighed. "I have never wholly approved of the way your father has pitted you and Thor against each other. He must have had his reasons, but still..."

"Oh yes, Father has reasons for everything," Loki said bitterly.

"I know it may not seem like it now, but it is true," she tried to reassure him. "There will be something for you as well, Loki, even if it is not the throne."

"I would not want all of the fuss that goes with it anyway," he shrugged, hoping he sounded convincing. It was the truth, actually. It was not the throne itself that he longed for, just to be thought worthy of it.

"You new servant has been a great help in our preparations," Frigga said brightly, attempting to change the subject to something cheerier, and only managing to push him farther into glumness. "Her handwriting is superior to all but our most accomplished scribes. The work she has done on the necessary invitations and charts for the feast has been invaluable."

Loki grunted non-committally, hoping she would get the hint and drop the subject. 

"It isn't often one encounters servants who are much more than literate, let alone as accomplished as your Lysse seems to be. You are very lucky in her, Loki."

"Yes, my good fortune runeth over," he replied with heavy sarcasm. "My brother might have a hammer, a throne, and a crown, but I have a serving girl who can write and read. How does he not die of envy."

"I don't think you mock quite as much as you wish, my son," she told him.

Loki’s eyes shot to her face, searching it intently. Did she know? His mother was remarkably perceptive, had she somehow   picked up on his shameful behavior with Lysse?

”Well, I need to get back to work,” Frigga sighed. “Your brother deserves all the pomp and pageantry on his big day. But remember, Loki, just because he is ascending now does not make you any less. You will have your moment in the sun.”

”Thank you, Mother,” Loki replied automatically, standing as he did. 

“Oh, one more thing,” she said as she started to leave. “I don’t know if this applies to whatever spell you were attempting, but I might be able to shed some light on why it isn’t working for you. That book was written by a couple - husband and wife to be exact. Some of the spells require two, both male and female energy, to be present in order to manifest.”

”What?” Loki’s jaw hit the floor.

It would, of course explain why he continued to fail. On the one hand, he was relieved that it was not simply his inadequacy preventing his success, which was a relief to his already fragile ego at the moment. On the other, however, how was he ever going to complete it now?

”I take it you did not know, then,” his mother observed. “Well, just remember, I am always available if you want assistance. Assuming, of course, it is something you would be willing to tell your Mother about.”

With a knowing smile, she walked away, leaving Loki alone and frustrated in the clearing. 

***

With a pathetic little sigh, Lysse set down the pen with which she had been writing and massaged her hand. In the last four days she had spent nearly every waking hour writing, and she was finding that her hand was out of practice. A year ago, she would not even have noticed that hours had slipped by while she applied pen to paper, but now she had to give herself regular breaks to avoid the uncomfortable cramping in her hand.

Still, she should not complain. She would  _far_ rather be doing this sort of secretarial work than scrubbing or polishing. Not only was it much more within her area of expertise, but the names and configurations of the charts she was drawing up for the Allmother were intricate enough that it kept a part of her mind occupied, a thing she desperately needed and which menial work did not provide. She wanted desperately to stop thinking, to shut off her brain and just... exist without thought. The fact that her brain, in all her years of life,  _never_ seemed to shut down, or even slow, was proving to be a serious problem.

"Stop whining, Lyssette," she instructed herself, picking up her pen again. "Many people, particularly women with no families, have it far worse than you. You should be counting your blessings. Especially now that you have been given actual writing to do."

"I  _know_ I am lucky," she answered back a moment later. "I just wish I was... a different kind of lucky, that's all."

She knew she would sound mad to anyone witnessing her conversation with herself, but there was not much chance of that, after all. The lack of another person was, in point of fact, what was making her miserable in the first place.

Ever since the night she had spent in Loki's bed, she had barely caught more than a glimpse of her Prince. He had gone out that afternoon and stayed away late enough that she had taken herself off to bed. She decided it was prudent that first night, considering the events of the night before, not to look as though she was waiting up for him to invite her to join him. Norns forbid he should think she harbored any illusions on that front. She had lain awake, listening for his return, and so had heard him slip quietly in and go directly to his inner chamber. The next morning she had woken as usual and begun to prepare for the day. When noon came and went without a sign of him, she had thought he was hiding in his bedroom. A soft nock and a quick glance, however, proved that he was not. His bed had been made and clothing neatly plied in the wash basket, but there was no other sign of him.

He was avoiding her, it was plain to see. For the rest of the day, Lysse had obsessed over the reason. Was he so ashamed to have lain with her, even just to sleep, with her that he couldn't bare to face her? Did he have that great a disgust of her? Or perhaps he did worry that she hoped for a repeat of his invitation into his bed. She could not bare the thought that he would think her so grasping and gauche. She had driven herself to distraction, until she collapsed in a dejected heap on her little bed.

It was fortunate, then, that the summons had come from the Queen. Lysse was in shock at first. She had never spoken to Queen Frigga before, and was a bit in awe of the tall, beautiful Goddess. What could the Allmother possibly want with her? A cold fear shot through Lysse that somehow the older woman had found out who she really was, but that was not possible, was it?

When it became obvious that Frigga simply wanted Lysse's assistance with secretarial matters, she had known an overwhelming sense of relief. It seemed Loki had informed his Mother of Lysse's proficiency with the written word, and that good scribes were a valuable commodity at times such as these. Lysse had been only too happy to trade her duster for a pen and apply her bold, confident hand to seating charts and invitations and what not. She had even appropriated Loki's writing desk, since he didn't seem to be using it. Almost, she could have been back at the university, working in her own small but cheery office. Almost. If not for the ever present sense of loss that seemed to be her constant companion of late.

She was in the middle of writing out an elegant place card for the Thane of Wydham when the door to the tower burst open with a bang, causing her pen to skid and mar the name. Lysse spun in her chair at the interruption. Only one person would dare enter these rooms without knocking, especially in such a fashion. Still, she was shocked at Loki's appearance. His eyes were wide, and his hair looked as though he had been running his hands through it repeatedly for hours. There was something wild about him in that moment, and it caused a riot of butterflies to take flight in Lysse's stomach. 

With out saying a word, Loki twisted his hand and produced a bouquet of beautiful flowers. Smiling a bit madly, he held them out in front of him, offering them to her. Lysse, who had jumped to her feet the moment he entered, experience a stab of excitement. Was he really bringing her flowers? They were obviously flowers, and his gesture clearly showed he intended her to take them. They couldn't be sign of... affection, could they? Surely not, given who he was and what she had become. Irritated at her lack of movement, Loki shook the flowers impatiently.

"Here," he said, his voice not at all what one would use to woo a lady. "Take them."

"Thank you, My Prince?" she said uncertainly, accepting the flowers from his hand.

"These are what you were trying to summon that first night. On my balcony," he explained, effectively throwing water on the small glimmer of hope inside of her. 

"Ah," she said, trying to think. "I believe so, Your Highness."

"They are. I looked it up. Page 37. You did better than could have been expected, all things considered. I assume, after all, that one of your station has no former tutorage in sorcery?"

"No, Your Highness," she agreed, when it became clear he expected an answer.

"Well, that is about to change!" he grinned manically. "You, my little Sparrow, are the answer to all of my problems!"

With a gleam I his eye that simultaneously excited and concerned her greatly, Loki leaned forward swept Lysse into fierce, passionate kiss.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki tests Lysse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers! So do to a technical snafu this chapter posted when I had only written the first few paragraphs. I have completed it now, a bit shorter than originally intended, but I wanted to get something complete up before too many people read the intro.
> 
> Any way, sorry for the error. I have a new power cord for my laptop in transit, so I will not have to post from my phone. Hope you enjoy!!! Thanks for all the comments!!!

This couldn’t be happening, she thought as Loki’s arms wrapped around her and pulled her close to his body. Had she fallen asleep over the mountain of work she had been toiling away at? Was this simply a dream brought on by her hopeless desire for the young prince? But the teeth nipping at her lip and tongue pressing its way insistently into her mouth felt more real than anything she had ever experienced.

Surrendering to the moment, Lysse pressed herself against him, one hand burying in his black hair while the other rested against the hard muscles of his chest. He was just as masterful as she had imagined as he ruthlessly claimed her mouth. She moaned into his mouth and felt him laugh as his had slid down her back to grab the curve of her ass and mold her even closer to the rampant erection she could feel beneath his clothing. 

When he finally drew back to stare at her with eyes that were all dark pupils, Lysse was breathless and and in a cloud of sensation. 

“Now,” Loki said, voice rough and panting a bit, “I want you to take what you are feeling. Focus on the passion, harness the energy flowing through your body. Can you do that Sparrow?”

Confused, but eager to please him, Lysse nodded. There was certainly a pool of energy surging inside her, there was no denying that. She tried sink into it, to wrap her mind around it. 

“Good girl,” he murmured in approval, causing another wave of pleasure to flow down to where it was gathering between her legs. “Now, take that energy, that passion, that creative force, and picture the flowers I gave you. See that life giving pulse within you creating them, and when you do, say the words on the page.”

As Lysse struggled to comprehend what was happening, Loki handed her the book she had read on his balcony. Not wanting to disappoint him, she pushed her questions aside and tried to do as he instructed. When she could clearly see the flowers in her mind’s eye, she drew a breath and with shaky voice read the runes before her.

The room was suddenly filled with pink blossoms. There was no neat bouquet such as Loki had given to her, but stems of the flower littered the floor all around them, transforming the masculine study into a riot of feminine pinks. 

“A bit unstable,” Loki said, as if to himself. “We will obviously need to work on focus and precision. But all things considered, a rousing success.”

With a bright gleam of smug satisfaction in his eye, Loki released his hold on her and sat lounging in his large desk chair. Lysse blinked in confusion at the abrupt change in his demeanor. Gone was the passionate lover, and in his place was the detached, calculating prince she had been serving until today. 

“My Lord...” she stammered, hesitantly, “what was all that...”

”I had to stimulate you,” he said with a half grin. “To awaken your emotions. That’s where magic comes from, after all, the channeling of the passions that course through our system. That first afternoon, for instance, you were thrumming with feeling. Fear, anger, relief. It’s what allowed you to access the power within you.”

“So... that’s why you kissed me?” She asked in a shaking voice. “To... stimulate me? For magic?”

”What other reason would I have?” Loki asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Lysse lowered her eyes as her face turned red, a million thoughts trying to fly through her head at once. Of course he hadn’t kissed her for romantic reasons. He was a prince, she was a servant. She had been stupid to even hope for such a thing. That didn’t make the hurt now thudding deep within her chest any less. Or the desire. Norns save her soul, but the desire was no less. 

"was there not any other way for you to stimulate me?" she asked, choking on the word. The cruelty of his act was beginning to set in, and she was becoming more and more angry, both with herself and with him.

"I suppose I could have struck you," he replied, eyes narrowing, "called you vile names, threatened your life. Would you have preferred that, sparrow?"

"No," she muttered, unable to look at him.

"Was it not pleasurable then, my kiss? Did you take no enjoyment from it? Be careful how you answer, pet, for don't forget, I was a part of it too. I could taste your reaction. And, after all, it did work..."

"Perhaps you should not forget that I could taste yours as well," she blurted, now riled up in full. "It was not just me who enjoyed the kiss, Your Highness. I think we have ample proof of that."

Loki threw back his head and laughed long and hard.

"There you are!" he grinned, when he had calmed down at last. "I was wondering how long it would take."

"My Prince?" she asked, suddenly alarmed. Had she really spoken in such a way to him? 

"I have spent the last weeks watching you, waiting for the subservient shell to crack," he told her, knowing smile on his face. "Do you think I don't hear you in the other room, talking to yourself? All of the witty, cutting remarks you make? And then the moment I step into the room you close up and go silent, depriving me of your true nature. If I had known that this was all it would take to pry open your shell, I would have kissed you days ago!"

Lysse stared at him in complete shock. She didn't know what to think. So many emotions were coursing through her. She hated him, almost, in that moment. But oh, how she loved him. The wildness in him this afternoon seemed to be so much more his own true nature than the carefully constructed mask he usually showed to the world. She thought she would endure anything to see more of it. Even the relentless chaos he was making of her emotions.

"Perhaps you should do more than kiss me," she suggested, wondering where the daring was coming from, "and see what more I will say."

***

He had meant to kiss her gently, softly, romantically. To finesse and coax her emotions into a heightened state. But when his lips met hers and, after the initial moment of shock, she opened so eagerly to him, all of his best intentions went flying out the window. She was so sweet, so welcoming, so very willing. He forgot, completely, why he was kissing her in the first place. Everything was gone from his head, and all that remained was the urge, the need, to claim this woman who had haunted his dreams as much as his waking hours.

When her hand went into his hair and began to tug gently at it, he almost lost control and magicked away their clothing. He need to be inside her desperately, and her mouth was not enough to sate his desires. As she moaned into his kiss, he knew that she wanted it too. Oh Norns, if he had only known how good she would feel! The curve of her ass beneath his hand as he pressed her into his straining cock was sweet, and he could feel the heat between her legs pulling him towards it. Screw his plans, screw the realm. All he wanted to was to bury his length into this woman and loose himself in the magic of her body.

Magic. That was what this was about. He had not kissed her for his own lust, or at least, he tried to tell himself he had not. He was determined to harness her magic in his quest to master the elusive spell. He needed to do that. As tempting as she was, and Gods, she was, he could not afford to give in to it. Not now. Against all desire in his veins, he made himself pull away from her.

The look in her eyes was almost enough to draw himself back in, but surely he could hold off on his baser instincts for a short time. Marshalling all of his concentration, amazed at the difficulty in doing so, he walked her through the steps. Focus, ride the passion, see the flowers, speak the words.

The profusion of flowers everywhere was a testament to both her innate power and the passion he had inspired. A sense of smugness filled him. He had been right. He didn't know who she was, but there was strong magic in her lineage. He was shocked, in fact by the success of the spell. It was undisciplined, certainly, and lacking in direction, but the raw power within her was not to be denied.

Who was she? As he sat back and looked at her, Loki began to regain his control over himself. She was so befuddled, he thought with a smile. Who was this girl, who carried so much untapped potential within her? Why had she become a servant in the first place. He had known from the beginning that there was a mystery, but now he began to worry if there was also a plot. Had she been placed by someone to trap him? It would be a deviously clever plan. Books, knowledge, obviously, were his weakness. It was known by many. Could she have been planted in the garden, an innocent seeming maid who just happened to be exactly what he preferred physically in a woman, being set upon because of her own love of learning? It was almost too perfect. He needed to find out, before he lost any more of his heart to her.

"My Lord...” she stammered, hesitantly, “what was all that...”

”I had to stimulate you.”

If she was an actress, she was a damn good one. He would have to test it, he decided. He proceeded to poke at her, to rub her reaction to his embrace in her face. If she was what she appeared to be, it would sting, and he would be sorry for that. But if she was a spy, a trap designed especially for him, it would not do to let her see how much that kiss had affected him.

The last thing he had been expecting was for her to snap back at him. It was glorious! He had heard his little Sparrow so many times, had longed for her to let down her guard and show him who she really was. He was a Prince. People bowed and scraped to him all day. Some of them, too many of them, did it begrudgingly, not bothering to hide their disdain, some of them in genuine humbleness of his exalted state. He realized he didn't want her to do either. He wanted her to see not the Prince when she looked at him, but the man. She might be a trap, he realized, but if she was it was already too late. He was well and truly caught.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The official Magic Lessons have begun. Loki's method of teaching is unique.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, my laptop is working again! No more posting from cell phone! Thank you all for your comments! And a special thanks to TheAssassinLover for letting me know the last chapter had posted prematurely!

Lysse would be terribly hard pressed, if asked, to say what was most distracting to her as she tried to focus her mind on the transformation spell Loki was attempting to teach her. A strong case could be made for the hot breath tickling the back of her neck, always a sensitive spot for her. But then, the impossibly long fingered hand aggressively splayed across her lower abdomen, pinkie just a hair’s breadth away from the epicenter of her arousal, was potentially even worse. And of course there was the hard length of his fully erect cock that she could feel pressing into her lower back, occasionally  giving little throbs just to remind her (as if a reminder was needed!) that it was there. It was all horribly, wonderfully, unfair.

“You’re not concentrating, Sparrow,” a low voice purred in her ear, before teeth nipped at the lobe playfully.

”I am!” she protested through gritted teeth, trying to pull together all the want, the desire coursing through her into a creative force. “ _Someone_ keeps distracting me!”

”I’m trying to inspire you,” he corrected, licking a trail up her neck. “Now get to work. Feel the power here.”

As his fingers on her waist flexed, Lysse tried to suppress the giggle that moved through her from the tickle. She couldn’t help it, she had always been overly sensitive!

”Concentrate!” he admonished, and she felt, impossibly, a hand strike her bottom, even though it was pressed tightly against him.

”Ow!” She squealed. “How did you do that?”

”If you would concentrate on learning,” he replied smugly, “you could find out for yourself and wouldn’t have to ask. Now. Do it!”

Trying her best to block him out, and yet maintain that spark that he so easily ignited within her, Lysse drew upon the fire inside of her and whispered the words she had memorized, giving a small twist of her hand as she did. 

A flash of rose, apparently the color her power took, filled the room as Lysse attempted to change her dress from the serviceable if attractive uniform she wore into an elaborate ball gown. The results were, to put it mildly, not what she had been intending.

”My, my, my, Sparrow,” Loki laughed wickedly. “Where did your mind go?”

To her absolute horror, Lysse was standing, still pressed against him, in the skimpiest neglige she could imagine. It was one, she realized, she had seen in a shop window a week ago when she had been running an errand for her Prince, and her mind at the time had wandered to a fantasy life where she bought such a thing to wear for him in the privacy of his bedchamber. The fact that she was clad in it now, a mere scrap of translucent silk that skimmed along her body to just barely cover her privates, spoke volumes as to where, exactly, her mind kept roaming. 

“I am so sorry, My Prince,” she mumbled turning red all the way down to her much exposed bosom.

”While normally I would punish you for your failure,” Loki mused, running his hand over the silky material, “I must say that in this instance I rather approve of  the mistake. You will, of course, remain in this until you are able to turn it back.”

Lysse spun around to see him smiling at her with an appreciative hunger in his eyes and swallowed hard. This new “training” of theirs was going to be the death of her, she knew it. But oh, what a sweet death it would be!

From the moment she had snapped at Loki, it was as if a new chapter had opened up in their relationship. Gone was the carefully correct Prince, taking pains not to let the servant see the man underneath. Gone, too, was the subservient pose she had put on since entering the palace. She was still respectful, of course, he was royalty after all, but the fiction that she was nothing more than a scullion had been done away with. She was treated, and acted like, what she had always been: a member of the intelligentsia. Not quite nobility, but educated and respected. Or, respected to a certain point, at least.

The tension, with all its erotic charge, that hovered between them ever since that kiss shaded every moment. Every touch, every word, every breath either of them took seemed full of sexual promise just begging to be acted upon. 

She knew why he was doing it, of course. He had seen the effect he had on her and decided it was the quickest avenue to accessing the magic that lay within her. The more aroused he could make her, the more power she would have to feed off of. _Why_ he was so desperate to access her power he had yet to share with her, merely smiling enigmatically when asked and mumbling something about the good of the realm. Honestly, if it kept him touching her so intimately she was not about to complain, even if she was left frustrated and unsatisfied at the end of their sessions. At least she had the satisfaction of knowing that in stoking her desire, he was building up his own as well. The ever present bulge in his pants that he didn’t even attempt to hide was testament to that.

“I sincerely hope,” she told him tartly as his eyes shamelessly devoured all the flesh she had on display, “that this is not how your mother conducted your education.”

A short time ago she would have never dared make such a provocative statement, but much to her surprise she had discovered her Prince enjoyed the saucy side of her tongue. 

“Careful, Sparrow,” he said now with a grin, “you don’t want me to have to discipline you for showing disrespect to royalty... Unless of course, you do? Is that it? Would it help you focus your energy if I were to take you across my knee like a naughty child?”

To her great mortification, Lysse found herself growing even more aroused at the image his words planted in her mind. Despite her best efforts to keep her desire for his punishment off her face, she could see the moment it registered with him. With a quickly indrawn breath, Loki’s eyes turned almost completely black.

”Oh, my little bird,” he breathed, low and dark, “you play with fire.”

Faster than she could comprehend, Loki’s hand shot out and yanked Lysse hard against his body, arm circling her to hold her tight.

”Loki!” a voice boomed as the tower door burst open. “Are you in here? I haven’t seen you in days!”

***

Not for the first time in his life, Loki was completely divided on whether he wanted to strangle or hug his meddlesome brother. Leave it to Thor to come barreling in just as he was about to give in to his baser instincts and succumb to his lust for his Sparrow. 

The fact that he had remained strong until this point was a wonder. Everything about her, from her quick mind that soaked up knowledge like a sponge, to her delectable body that fit so well against his, demanded he throw restraint to the winds and ravish her as she clearly desired. His grip on his libido was tenuous whenever she was merely in the room; the fact that he had spent the last three days holding, caressing, and nibbling on her made his behavior almost heroic in his own eyes. 

The combination of the neglige, that wonderful satiny piece of green translucent perfection, and her clear jolt of desire at the idea of being submissive to him, was almost a step too far. It was the final box checked off on his list of all of his preferences in a bedmate, all of them made flesh in one perfect creature who was all but offering herself, who would offer herself if given a chance, to him. How could he refuse?

And yet, he didn’t want to use her that way. Well, _yes, of course_ he did want to use her that way, but not when she was his servant. It could never be a liaison that was acknowledged. It could never even be a proper affair. It would be tawdry and cheap, and Lysse deserved better. 

"Well, brother," Thor said with a grin, taking in Lysse's scantily clad body in his arms and coming to the obvious conclusions, "so this is what has been keeping you sequestered in your tower all this time. I must say, I heartily approve!"

Loki's mouth opened and shut as he struggled to decide how to handle this unacceptable predicament. He was at a very unusual and unacceptable loss for words. Lysse's buried her head in his chest in an attempt to hide from the situation, but Thor just smiled gently at her and gave an over elaborate court bow.

"Please, do not hide your beauty away, my lady," his brother said gallantly. "It is a rare damsel who can tempt my proud brother off his moral high horse. You must be special indeed."

"Thank you, My Lord Prince," Lysse whispered.

Both the reversion to her old servant voice and her referring to Thor as "My Lord Prince" set Loki's teeth on edge. He was her Lord Prince, and no one else!

"Lysse," he said, voice assuming a cool, superior tone, "be a pet and go straighten up the mess we made of my study. There's a good girl."

Her eyes flew to his with an almost comical mixture of relief and offense. Ah well, he would make it up to her later. Right now, he just wanted to get her wonderfully bare body out of his brother's line of vision. As Lysse gave a nod of her head in place of the courtesy that would have left all of her goods on display, and fled to the other room, Loki couldn't resist giving one swift smack to her ass on her way out. Thor believed they were lovers. Very well, he would allow him to think so. Better that than the alternative of him discovering what they were truly doing together.

"What?" he asked his grinning idiot of a brother once his Sparrow had flitted out of the room.

"I never thought I'd see the day," Thor teased, cuffing Loki overly hard on the shoulder. "My little brother, ensnared by a pair of big... eyes."

As Thor laughed at his witticism, Loki  stalked over to his sofa and threw himself upon it, silently willing his erection to lower itself now that the longed for relief was not to be had after all.

"Leave it, Thor," he snarled.

"It is nothing to be ashamed of, brother," Thor laughed, ignoring his surly tone. "Fandrall was right, as ever. She is quite lovely. Why hide from it?"

"She's a servant, Thor, nothing special," Loki sighed, running his hand across his eyes. "You know how father feels about that. Bedding her is one thing, but do not act as though she would ever be more than a convenience for me."

Loki cringed at his own words, knowing that Lysse would be able to hear them from the other side of the door. Still, if he acted too out of character Thor would realize that there was something special indeed about his little Sparrow. Loki most emphatically did not want anyone else learning she had magic. That secret, along with the rest of her, was for him alone.

"Loki," Thor said, looking him dead in the eye, "I know you struggle always to prove yourself to father. So do I. But we are given so little true happiness in this life. Mother says this girl is intelligent, with a hand that rivals any in the palace. She came to your service after stealing a book. A  _book_! I know of no one else save you who I can even imagine risking their life for such a thing. She is undeniably beautiful. She looks at you as though you hung the moon. If you can give each other a few moments of happiness brother, then take them! Don't let father's opinion stand in your way!"

"Fine words from the worthy son," Loki said bitterly. "Now, was there a reason you barged into my private quarters? Other than to lecture me on happiness, that is."

"Of course! I am going to the armors to see about my new helmet, and I knew you would not be able to resist the urge to come along and mock me. Cow."

"Goat," Loki sighed.

"What?" Thor looked perplexed.

"Goat. If you are going to insult my helmet, at least do so properly," Loki said, standing and gesturing to the door. "Cows are female and do not have horns."

"I defer to you in all manner of live stock," Thor laughed good naturedly.

"Sparrow," Loki called, wishing he could remain but knowing he should go, "I will be dining with my idiot brother tonight. Do not wait up for me."

"I'll wager she disobeys that order," Thor elbowed him in the ribs. "I may not know livestock, but there's one thing I know, brother, and it's when a maid is ready for a tumble, and she is all be panting for one."

It was the last thing Loki needed to hear, as his cock once again sprang to life. Thor, of course, did not miss the sudden surge in his brother's trousers and his mocking laughter ushered them out.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for Loki and Lysse to have an over due discussion!

Every moment he spent out with Thor Loki resented. It was bad enough that he had to listen to his brother's stupendously moronic plans for "when he was king," but he had to do so with the knowledge that he had been _so close_ before the interruption. Close to accessing both Lysse's magic and that magical place between her legs. He had been about to take her, he had no real illusions about it. One more minute and she would have been tossed over his shoulder, carried to his bed, and fucked into the mattress until the only word she remembered was his name. He could hear her now in his mind, crying out beneath him as he filled her over and over again. 

It only got worse when they joined the others for drinks of course. Thor sat down at the table, took a handful of coins out the purse tied to his belt and threw them at Fandrall, who burst out laughing.

"Right, was I?" Fandrall asked with a smirk.

"So it seems," Thor laughed.

Volstagg groaned and tossed a handful of his own towards their blond friend. Loki looked from one to another with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't look at me," Lady Sif smiled at him, "I for one had every confidence in you."

"Every confidence in me with regards to what exactly?" Loki asked, not sure he wanted the answer.

"That you would soon have the lovely Lysse wrapped around your finger and on her back," Fandrall smiled. "I could tell from watching you two love birds the other day that it was only a matter of time. Assuming, as you insisted, you were not already engaged in nocturnal pursuits.”

"I see," he seethed.

Loki despised the idea of them all speculating, gossiping about him and Lysse in such a manner. The fact that it had almost been true made it even worse. To add a final humiliating coda, he couldn’t even correct them, since it was better by far that they think her his paramour than suspect she had access to powers potentially near as great as his own. It was too soon to tell, but the progress she had made had been remarkable.

”Now don’t tease him too much,” Thor admonished them. “I for one am glad he has found someone to make him smile.”

That was the problem with Thor. Just when you wanted to choke the life out of him, his sweet side would manifest and it became as difficult to hate him as it was to hate an overgrown puppy. Loki smiled at his brother in resignation and counted the minutes until he could slip back to his room with minimal ribbing from the others. 

When he finally mounted the steps to his rooms a feeling of looming dread crept up on him. What would he say to her? He had to assume that she had heard his conversation with Thor. Even had she not, it was bad enough that he had been so obviously about to ravish her, only to turn ice cold and neglectful the moment his brother had entered. It made him look no better than the other lords who preyed on the serving class. He _was_ no better than them. Hopefully she would be in bed, he decided, and he could delay the inevitable until the morning. 

He should have known he would have no such luck. As he entered his sitting room, painfully sober this time, his eyes instantly landed on her form.

Norns but she was a vision. The moment he saw her he was hard as nails. She still wore the green nightie she had conjured that afternoon, it’s diaphanous fabric enhancing more than covering her body from its low cut top to its _just_ shy of scandalous hem. 

“More castration rituals?” he asked with a forced laugh, gesturing to the scroll in her lap.

”Could you blame me?” she asked sweetly, setting the scroll aside and standing neatly.

A moment later she spoke a string of worlds under her breath and with a twist of her wrist she was decently, disappointingly, clothed in her uniform. Loki’s jaw dropped as she smiled smugly at him. 

“It seems anger can be just as _stimulating_ as whatever it was you were attempting to instill,” she told him gloatingly. “Particularly when one has nothing else to distract one all afternoon and evening.”

”Sparrow, you are amazing!” he praised her, suppressing his urge to order her to change back to the marvelous neglige.

“Oh no, Your Highness,” she said primly. “You must have me confused with someone else. I am not amazing. Nor am I special. I am simply a servant.”

”You did hear that,” he sighed  “I feared you had. Sparrow, listen. I only spoke those words to Thor so that he would not become curious and discover what we were really doing together. How special you truly are.”

”Yes, well I suppose the only thing worse than having him think that you were sleeping with a servant would be him thinking you required assistance from one.”

Loki felt a pang of guilt at how close her words were to being true. It was how he had felt in the beginning, he could not deny that, at least not to himself. But now it was different. He did not see her that way anymore, not when she was standing before him all bright and beautiful.

”Sparrow...”

”No wonder you disappeared for days, the disgust you felt after pulling me into bed with you must have been immense. Just imagine how much more humiliating for you would it have been if we had actually fucked! I shudder to think. You must be so relieved, Sire!” 

”Is that what you think?” he ask, suddenly angry at her. “That I haven’t slept with you, haven’t _fucked_ you as you so eloquently put it, because I feel disgust for you? Because it would be humiliating for me?”

”What other reason could there be? You play with me, tease me, “stimulate” me as you put it, but when it comes right too it you are too good to actually want to sully yourself with the help.”

”You are the most idiotic woman I have ever met!” Loki yelled at her, pleased to see the offense she took at this pronouncement. “Too good to want to sully myself with you? I want nothing more than to sully me, you, and every surface in these rooms, in the whole palace, with you. Every piece of furniture I see is either something to bend you over or push you down onto! My cock screams to be inside you and I cannot look at you without fantasizing about the various parts of you I want sink into. I have been constantly hard for days from imagining all the ways I would take you and pound my name into your soul! It is not my reputation I am trying to protect, you maddening woman, but yours!”

”What?”

She was looking at him as if he had lost his mind, and for a moment he feared he had. Thank the Norns his rooms were as remote as they were with how he had been screaming!

”I do not want every one to look at you and see just another servant being bedded by her master,” he said, attempting to calm his voice. “That is why I have not taken you to my bed. You deserve more.”

”But My Lord Prince,” She said after a loud burst of laughter, “they already see that! Fandrall has thought we were lovers from the first, and any thought your brother may have had to the contrary was wiped out today. I know how the gossip works in this palace. By this point you and I are the only ones not convinced that we have coupled.”

Loki stared at her, mouth agape. She spoke nothing but the truth. He had seen for himself with his friends how it was. 

“What are you saying, Sparrow?” He asked, holding himself very still.

”I am saying, My Prince, That if I am to carry the guilt of having been bedded by you, I would at least like to carry as well the first hand knowledge of the pleasure such a bedding would bring me.”

Loki stared at her a moment longer before crossing the room in a single stride and pulling her into his arms.

”Pleasure does not begin to describe what I will bring you,” he growled, and crushed his lips to hers.

***

It was the first time since he had given Lysse the flowers that Loki's lips met hers. He had kissed her hand, her neck, her shoulder, but seemed to have instinctively known that the moment their mouths met again there would be no turning back.  As they joined now, she knew it to be the truth. She needed him, needed his kiss. He was food and drink and oxygen all rolled into one.

As his mouth dominated hers, Loki lifted Lysse off the floor and walked her, never breaking the kiss, into his bedroom, kicking the door open. It was only when the backs of her legs hit the massive bed that he dragged himself away from her lips, allowing her a few gasps of air before raising her up higher and tossing her back onto the mattress with enough force that she bounced when she landed. As she hit the bed for the second time, a flash of green changed her uniform back into the negligée she had conjured earlier. With a predatory smile Loki climbed onto the bed, eyes raking over her slpayed out body.

"I have pictured this so many times," he rasped, running one large hand down from her plunging neckline all the way to where the hem stopped just below her throbbing cunt. "The reality is more enticing, more glorious than I ever could have imagined. Do not ever doubt what you do to me, Sparrow."

On the last words he took her hand and brought it to cover the huge bulge in the front of his leather trousers. His moan as fingers caressed him through the pants spurred her on, and she pressed harder on him as he rutted into her palm.

Reaching down from where he towered over her, Loki slowly used one finger to slide the strap off one of her shoulders. Lysse shivered as he pulled on the thin loop of fabric until her left breast was bare to his sight. With a grunt, Loki latched onto her exposed nipple, sucking and nipping at it as she moaned and arched her pelvis up towards him.

"Stay still," he commanded, pressing her center back down with a firm hand, and returned to his assault on her breast.

The jolts of pure desire running through her body were overwhelming. Lysse yearned for something, anything, to rub against. She was in desperate need of pressure against her center. The sobs coming from her as he switched his attentions to her other nipple sounded pathetic to her own ears, but she didn't care any more. Nothing mattered, not her pride, not her sanity. Nothing but the overwhelming need to feel him between her legs.

"Are you wet for me, Sparrow?" he purred in her ear when he finally let her nipple go with one last extending tug. 

"Yes, Sire," she breathed, not bothering to deny it. 

"Say my name, Lysse," he ordered, nipping at her neck with his teeth.

"Loki," she sighed on an exhaled breath.

He growled fiercely and brought his hand down between her legs, cupping his fingers over her drenched sex. Her breath was coming in shallow pants and he yet to even touch her where she most needed him. When he curled one long finger to trail along her swollen slit, she cried out shamelessly in want.

"You are positively dripping, Sparrow," he said with a satisfied grin, moving down her body until he was kneeling between her spread open legs. "Look at you, all glistening wet for me. Oh, what a good girl you are!"

Hooking her leg under the knee, he brought it up over his shoulder, kissing the inside of her thigh as he did so. When he reached just below where her legs divided he sucked long and hard, drawing the blood to the surface to form a large bruise, and ran his tongue over it to subject her to more sweet torture. He repeated the process with the other leg, causing her to twist on the bed as he teased her. When both of her ankles were locked behind him, he gave her one last evil grin and then dove down to run the flat of his tongue over the entire length of her pussy.

"You taste even better than you look," he whispered into her folds. "Oh, I am going to enjoy you so much. And you are going to love every minute."

Proving his words, Loki attacked her core with relish, licking and biting all along her lips until he finally, _finally_ reached her clitoris and drew it into his mouth.  Lysse screamed his name out as he sucked hard on her little nub, humming in appreciation. His hand soon joined in, dexterous fingers sliding inside her as his teeth and tongue worshipped her clit. 

"That's it," he coaxed her, finger working the spot inside her, "cum for me, love. Let me taste how much you want me."

As he sucked her once more, Lysse shattered, orgasm ripping through her. Loki's tongue quickly replaced his fingers, thrusting into her channel to catch all of her nectar as it came flooding out of her.

When she could finally see again, Lysse opened her eyes to find Loki looming over her, still fully dressed, a wicked smile lighting his face still shiny with her moisture. She felt her cheeks turn red as she realized how she must look, naked but for a scrap of silk across her abdomen, wantonly spread open for him on his bed.

"Loki," she breathed out again with a smile. "My Lord Prince."

"What is it, Sparrow," he asked.

"You are wearing far to many clothes," she told him, amazed at her own boldness.

Loki's eyes went wide, then his grin spread even wider.

"That is a problem easily remedied," he said seriously.

With a flash he was naked. 

She had seen him before, briefly, in the dark. That had been enough to leave her wet and longing. Seeing him now, in the soft glow of his bedroom lamps, towering over her, was overwhelming. His body was as perfectly sculpted as a statue. Slim, but all lean, hard muscle covered by pale, flawless skin. His dark hair and bright eyes shown in contrast, giving him an almost other worldly beauty. Swallowing in something close to fear, she let her eyes wander down the vee of his hip bones to the jutting cock that stood rampant and insistent.

"Oh yes, love," he said with a smirk, noting the direction of her gaze. "Take a good look. I am going to fill you to the brim."

As she gave a noise midway between a moan and a whimper, Loki lowered himself down until he nestled between her legs. She lifted her feet and crossed her ankles behind his back as he slowly dragged the head of his cock back and forth through the slick he had brought out of her pussy. When she began to think that he was going to draw out the anticipation past the point she could endure, he lined himself up with her entrance and with one long thrust and a great moan buried himself to the balls inside of her.

Lysse felt all of the wind leave her body as she struggled to adapt to his size stretching her inner muscles. He was impossibly large, and she could feel him pulsing along every inch of her channel. Slowly, giving her time to adjust, he began to move within her. As a dim, distant part of her mind gave thanks for how thoroughly he had prepared her, Lysse found herself moving in rhythm with him. His mouth sought out hers again, tongue thrusting in time with his cock. His hands slid along her body as if memorizing the shape of her as her own hand wrapped itself in his black silky hair.

"Oh, Norns, Lysse," he moaned in her ear. "Lysse, Lysse, my sweet Sparrow. My darling girl. You are so perfect around me. So tight, love. Gods, you feel so good."

"Loki," she cried, feeling her climax build again as he worked her body so expertly. "Take me my Lord Prince. Please, please, take me."

"You are mine," he growled, moving faster, harder inside her. "Mine and no one else's."

"Yes, yes!" she panted, arching into him as his teeth found her neck in a bruising kiss.

With a primal growl he thrust into her again and she felt his seed pump, hot and wet, inside of her. Filling her as he had promised to do. The sensation of him releasing within her brought her second orgasm crashing down around her, and her inner muscles spasmed around him, milking his cum greedily from his pulsing cock.

Panting as though he had just run a marathon, he lowered his sweat slick forehead to hers and placed a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose.

"There is no turning back now Sparrow," he told her, sending a thrill through her feverish body. "Any hope you had of escaping left the moment my lips met yours."

"Any desire to escape left the moment I saw you, My Lord Prince," she replied with a shy smile. "I have been yours since that moment."

"Let us sleep now, love," he sighed, rolling onto his side and taking her with him, without pulling out of her.

Lying in his bed, wrapped in his strong arms, his cock still half hard inside of her, Lysse felt more at peace than she had since her world had come crashing down around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey! That was some smut!! 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the steaminess - I got a bit carried away writing it, lol. 
> 
> As always, comments et al are greatly appreciated!!!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning, Loki & Lysse awake. Will they regret what they have begun?

Lysse woke on the impossibly comfortable mattress again, but this time everything else had changed. She was naked, to begin with. Even the flimsy wisp of silk she had been wearing had been done away with and tossed to the side of the bed. Also completely bare was the long, cool, sculpted body entangled with hers. Her head rested on his muscled chest, tucked just under his perfectly cut jaw. One of her legs had risen to wrap around his hip, and she could feel his heavy, hard cock pressing against her thigh. She had fallen asleep with it inside of her; it must have slid out at some point during the night. There was a delicious ache inside of her, a soreness that reminded her of just how deeply he had marked her. A sticky trail of semi-dried cum decorated her inner thighs. Loki's arms were wrapped tightly around her upper body, holding her firmly in place as though afraid she would try to slip away while he slept. One large hand palmed her breast, the other held her leg in place on top of him. It was all almost unbearably intimate, and could not believe he had allowed himself to be so vulnerable.

What was she to do now? She could just make out the sun shining behind his dark curtains; the day had begun. On a normal morning she would be up now, making herself ready to serve him. Soon he would rise, and she would run down to the kitchen to bring him his breakfast, trying hard to avoid seeing the morning erection beneath his sleep pants. Now that erection was impossible to avoid, pressing as it was against her. 

"If you even think of getting out of this bed before I grant you permission, you will regret it Sparrow," a voice rumbled against the top of her head.

"I would not dream of doing such a thing, My Lord Prince," she said with a small smile.

"Liar," he grumbled, pinching the nipple beneath his hand. "I could hear you plotting your escape."

"Forgive me for thinking so loudly, Sire."

"Lysse, darling," he told her, running a hand over her hip and giving her ass a squeeze, "if you are going to share my bed, and just so there is no misunderstanding in that matter, you _will_ be sharing my bed, you may call me Loki when we are in it."

"If you wish, Loki," after all they had done the night before, she still felt shy using his name.

"I do wish. I find I like the way it sounds when you say it. Especially when you scream it as you were so obliging as to do last night."

Lysse blushed at the memory. Her throat was sore this morning from all the screaming he had brought out of her. Her Prince seemed to like it when she was vocal, both in and out of the bedroom.

"Do you think, all things considered," he asked, "that you might want to tell me who you really are?"

Lysse's entire body went cold. Just as she had been beginning to relax, to let her guard down. The question, so casually posed, was like a bucket of ice down her spine.

"Who I am?" she echoed, stalling for time.

"Sparrow, do you think me dull witted?" there was the slightest of edges to his voice that made Lysse shiver.

"No," she whispered. 

"I have known from the onset that you were not a common palace drudge. Even Fandrall was able to see that. You had the manners, for all your endearing shyness, of one born to comfort if not extravagance. You read and write with alacrity. You know what alacrity means. And you have magic in you."

"You are not wrong, My Lord... Loki," she corrected herself as the hand on her ass squeezed.

"Considering I have allowed you into my private quarters, into my very bed, perhaps you would like to tell me, so I know whether or not I need to fear falling asleep."

The idea that he could ever fear her was patently ludicrous. A panther did not fear a mouse after all. But she did have to concede that he had a point, if an absurdly exaggerated one.

"I was raised in academia," she said, deciding a half truth was her best answer. "My family were professors, teachers, scholars. I was given a book as my first toy. I believe I may be the only baby to chew on the History of the World Tree when teething."

"You parents shared your love of books, then?"

"My grandparents," she corrected, deciding she would tell him as much of the truth as she dared. "I never knew my parents."

"Ah, I am sorry, Sparrow," he murmured, kissing the top of her head.

"My Grandfather was a kind man, though not overly demonstrative," she continued, trying not to think about her parents. "He would read me fables and fairy tales, some of his own penning. Those are my first memories. Happy ones."

"That would explain why you took the book from Fandrall," Loki mused.

She nodded, not wanting to risk any more. She could not tell him that the book had, in fact, been written by her Grandfather. It would make too specific who she was. The greater safety was in vague anonymity. 

"And you Grandmother?"

"Sharp. Brilliant. She did not suffer fools."

"Sounds like someone I know," Loki said with a chuckle. "I take it you get your tongue from her?"

"She would blush to hear it," Lysse laughed. "She was forever scolding me for talking too much. Pestering all of the adults with questions and stories and nonsense. There were no other children my age, you see, so I would talk to whoever was around. Myself if no one was. Just to have companions."

"It sounds lonely," she could not be certain, but she almost thought she detected a not of sorrow in his voice.

Suddenly Lysse wondered what it must have been like for Loki, growing up in the Royal Palace. He had a brother, and a handful of other noble companions, but what did he really have in common with any of them? They were all the traditional Asgardian warriors, even Lady Sif, favoring sport and fighting over reading and creating. Did he feel out of place? Thinking back to the other night she had spent in this bed, Lysse began to realize that he might. That even this dazzling man who she had made the object of her devotion might feel lonely and unwanted.

"It could be," she answered at last. "But I had my stories. The ones I read and the ones I wrote. In them I could have as many companions as my mind could envision. They became to seem almost as real to me as the world the rest of Asgard inhabited. I know, I must sound insane."

"Not really," he smiled. "Not to me."

Lysse lifted her head and her breath caught at the way he was smiling down at her, eyes still sleepy, hair falling randomly over his forehead. She could lose herself in him, she realized in that moment. Lose herself in the beauty of this man who could never really be hers for all of their pretending. 

"So what happened?" He asked. "Why are you not there now?"

"Grandfather died," she said carefully, knowing she had to tread very warily now. "He was old, even by our standards, and was never a robust man. Grandmother was old too, and not able to teach any more. In the end... we were forced to leave."

"There was nothing set aside?" Loki asked, voice appalled. "After all those years of service, they just cast you out?"

"Grandmother was hard, as I have said," Lysse explained. "She... had words with the head of the school. They were not well received. It all went down hill very rapidly from there."

"Ah, the danger of having a temper," Loki nodded. "I may know something about that."

"They were not the sort of people who payed much attention to money," Lysse plowed on, wanting this conversation to be done with, hating that she was lying, even if by omission, to her Prince. "We had just enough to set Grandmother up in a home where she could be looked after. It had all been too hard on her, you see. There was none left over for me. I had to work if I were to survive."

"But why a palace maid?" Loki asked, easily seeing the hole in her story. "You had a brilliant education, even if not a formalized one. I would think a position in a different school, or even as a secretary or clerk, would be the obvious move. Not that I am complaining, mind you. I am only too aware that your misfortune was all to my advantage."

"I had no formal degree, as you have said," she groped her way. "No references, no work experience. I am relatively young, female, and not overly good at expressing myself when nervous. I needed funds quickly, and someplace like the palace is always in need of help. I thought I could make enough to set some coins by, perhaps find someone to speak for me the next time I applied for a job."

"You mean you did not do it simply to meet a prince and seduce your way into his bed?" he asked, tickling her side and making her squirm, arms still keeping her from moving away from him. "I am terribly disappointed."

"You have found me out," she giggled, feeling him twitch against her. "It has all been a plot, all of it, to ensnare you. Weeks of scullery work, catching Fandrall's eye, steeling the book, being attacked by the guards... all part of my nefarious plan to bewitch a prince."

"A Prince?" he asked, eyes narrowing. "Do you mean to say you didn't care which one?"

"If I had meant to seduce Thor," she said in flat voice, "do you really think I would have stolen a book? I respect your brother, but can he even read?"

"So you admit you were trying to seduce me?" he asked, eyes sparkling.

As Lysse stammered out a denial, Loki burst out laughing and rolled them over so that he was on top of her, pinning her to the mattress with his hard body. When his laughter died out, he looked straight into her eyes with his own in a way that seemed to be staring deep into her soul. Lysse held her breath as he seemed to weigh what she had told him, hoping he would choose to believe her story. It was almost all true, as far as it went. She would not outright lie to him. If she left out certain details, well... he did not tell her everything either.

***

She was not telling him the whole truth. Loki was certain of it. Normally this would eat at him, but he was too comfortable, too wrapped in the afterglow of their coupling and the first decent sleep he had achieved in ages to care at this moment. He sensed no outright lies in her, and he was certain that she did not mean him harm. That was enough for now. He could be patient, build on the trust they were establishing, and draw out her secrets. 

That did not mean, of course, that he would not investigate on his own. He had already put out feelers as to a missing young woman, educated and comely. Now he could add details to his pursuit, narrow it down to children of the faculty. There were not a large number of seats of higher learning on Asgard, and he would be willing to bet that her family belonged to one of the more highly esteemed of them. 

As her big eyes gazed up at her, Loki was taken again by his extraordinary good fortune in happening upon her, in the unprecedented impulse that had led him to take her into his service. Who would have guessed all the facets that service would grow to include.

"What is it, Sparrow?" he asked as she bit her lower lip.

"You have a dangerous look in your eye, My... Loki," she told him, worry in her voice.

"Do I?" he grinned. "Hmm..."

Idly, he began playing with her hair, winding a strand around a long finger before tugging it and letting it go again. Her breathing was beginning to become more shallow as his hips rocked against hers, sliding his hard length against the softness of her belly. He could feel his desire, never truly extinguished when in her presence, becoming more insistent within him.

"I was wondering, Sparrow, if you recalled the conversation we were having yesterday before my idiot brother so inopportunely interrupted us?"

He could tell by the way her pupils dilated that did, and his smile widened at the small noise that came unbidden from her throat.

"We were discussing," he explained, as if she could not remember, "the concept of discipline. Of punishments that might be doled out to a naughty little bird by her loving master."

"I am your servant, My Lord Prince," she breathed, lifting her chin instinctually to expose her neck. "You may discipline me however you like."

"Yes, I may," he agreed with a purr, "that is my prerogative as Prince. But I do not speak of the normal sort of  discipline a servant may expect, and I think you know that, Sparrow."

He felt her shiver beneath him and, unable to resist, bent his head down to capture her lips with his. She opened so sweetly to him, back arching up towards his chest. He was continually amazed at how giving of herself she was to him. It was a challenge to pull away from her, but he wanted to establish some things now, and if he kept on kissing her he would lose himself.

"I... I believe I know what you mean," she told him breathlessly as he let her up for air.

"And is it something you would like? In this bed, in this room, you are my equal, Sparrow, all rank forgotten. But that does not mean that other... power dynamics cannot be established. In the world outside you submit to me without choice, based on laws, on position, on whims of birth. In here, I would have you submit as well, but willingly and out of desire only. Desire for me and the pleasure my mastery of your body might bring us both. I will not force this on you. It is for you to accept or deny me this power. Make no mistake, if you accept I shall use you hard and relentlessly. But you will be more sated than you have ever been. I will show you needs and wants you never imagined you possessed, and do my utmost to fulfill them all."

Lysse's eyes were huge as he held them with his own. He could see fear in them, but also, undeniably a deep desire that mirrored his own. He was sure. Sure of her and of himself. But he wanted her to be as well, so he leaned down again and kissed her neck, sucking hard to mark her skin, and as he did so slid his hard cock into her slick, warm passage.

"Don't answer me now, Sparrow," he told her, beginning to move inside of her. "I want you to think on it. Think of all I have to offer you. But for now, I want you to lie back and let me worship you. Let me thank you for the gift you gave me last night. Let me show you what pleasure can be."

He took her slowly, holding back the impulse to let free his lust and slam into her as he had last night. He knew she would be sore, knew she was unused to nights like the one they had shared. And so he was gentle, worshiping her body as he had promised, making sure every long thrust his body glided against her clit to stimulate her. He kissed her senseless as he took her, hands traveling the length of her body and stoking desire wherever they landed.

In the end it was Lysse who became frenzied, bucking up into him as her climax hit her, teeth sinking into his neck, hands on his taut ass pressing him deep inside her as she spasmed around him, milking his cum from him. His name on her lips, moaned in desire, made him feel more like a Prince than any title ever could, and he lost himself at last once more in the haze of his desire.

"I do not have to think, Loki," she told him when they lay sweaty and sated again in each other's arms, using his name with calm confidence for the first time. "I know what I want. I submit to you. All of me is yours to command, my master. Use me for your pleasure."

"Our pleasure," he corrected her, a supernova of light exploding inside of him. "It will, I promise you, be our pleasure."


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki attends a council meeting. Hey, there's some plot for you here! (along with smut...)

Loki was bored, restless, and irritable. He did  _not_ want to be in a council room listening to a never ending stream of lordlings prose on about Thor's coming coronation. He wanted to be back in his rooms, back in his bed, back in his own newly avowed submissive Sparrow, seeing how many times he could make her cum before she passed out from pleasure. Or perhaps how long he could keep her right on the edge of cumming before she broke his resistance with her pleas for mercy. The fact that he had to leave all that lovely potential so soon after being granted it in order to sit uselessly while the worlds decided how to fete his brother seemed to him the height of cruelty.

The only person who seemed even close to his level of boredom was the brother in question. Thor was never a fan of council meeting at the best of times, and Loki knew that all the pomp and circumstance was beginning to grate on his antsy brother. As the ambassador from Alfheim droned on about the accommodations that must be made available to their delegation if Asagard expected their Queen to attend, Thor shot Loki a look that suggested he would die of boredom at any moment.

Loki sniggered behind one hand and made a small gesture with the other before indicating with his eyes that Thor should look back to the offensively dull ambassador. He had the gratification of watching his brother convulse silently as the flowered garland circling the ambassador's head suddenly began moving in a slow, sinuous pattern, slit eyed head and flicking tongue sprouting from the end of one of the leafy tendrils that hung down his back. He had made sure that only the two of them, seated on one side of the table, were able to see the slithery creature now making its way down the elf's white hair. Frigga and Heimdal on the other side and, more importantly, Odin at the head of the table, would be wondering why the stately, ancient representative was suddenly twitching his head and making ineffectual swipes with one hand to the side of his head. Anything to amuse himself, Loki thought, smirking as the small serpent hissed at the hand swatting in its general direction. 

There was a near disastrous moment with the elf came completely undone and spun around in a circle, trying to dislodge whatever it was that was tormenting his head, but Loki managed to vanish the snake seconds before it was in anyone else's sight line. This, of course, caused another round of snickering by the princes. 

"Thank you, Eifor," Frigga said, clearly aware that whatever was afflicting the ambassador had originated with her sons from the repressive look she shot them. "We will make sure that every comfort is made for your Queen."

"Indeed," Odin nodded, as though he had been listening. Loki knew full well that Odin was as bored as his sons at this sort of meeting, and that it was Frigga who would be making sure that all of the requests would be listened to and judged. "You are dismissed. Call in the next ambassador."

As Thor stifled a groan that Loki was very much in sympathy with, a tall, warriorlike woman in blue armor entered. She had long red-gold hair and wide blue green eyes that made Thor sit up at once and assume an attentive pose laughably at odds from the way he had been half laying on the table before. Loki could understand, the woman was certainly striking. If he had not been ruined for all other females by the vision he had waiting for him in his rooms, he might have been preening a bit himself. Not that she was particularly his type, but a pretty woman was a pretty woman after all.

"Your Majesties and Highnesses," she began, bowing stiffly. "I bring you greetings from Njord, God of the Sea, of Wealth, and of Fertility, and Lord of the Vanir."

"We are always happy to receive welcome from my home realm," Frigga replied with a smile. "It is our hope that Njord will join us for the Coronation, we have not seen him in some time."

"That is his hope as well, My Queen," the woman said, unsmiling. "However, that is not the end of the aspirations of our Lord."

"I'm sure," Frigga agreed, an ironic smile touching her lips. "Why don't you let us know his wishes, and the Allfather will decide if they can be granted."

Loki and Thor exchanged eyerolls as the woman began a list of requests that, however handsome she was, failed to interest either one of them. Thor, in particular, had a glazed over look as he stared at the woman's breasts, until one clause in her list of items brought him sharply, amusingly to Loki's mind, alert.

"What was that?" the elder prince asked, face going pale.

"It is the Lord Njord's great pleasure to propose a marriage contract be drawn up between the Crown Prince, soon to be King, Thor and his daughter Etta."

"I was not aware Njord had a daughter," Frigga said, interest piqued.

"She had been in seclusion, My Queen," the woman explained. "A daughter of the Temple of Freya, kept pure and virtuous in mind and body, awaiting a suitable marriage."

Loki smirked at Thor, imagining the oaf with a virginal temple bride, meek and devout. Nothing could be less appealing to his loud, earthly brother.

"What do you think, son," Odin asked, smiling genially at his eldest. "A Vanir bride can be a great asset to a king. It is no secret that my reign has benefitted greatly from your mother's presence by my side."

"Just so, Allfather," the representative smiled.

"I... I had not thought to wed so soon," Thor stumbled, not wanting to offend the woman.

"No?" Odin looked surprised. "It has been mentioned several times in these rooms, in your presence. A King needs a strong Queen to rule beside him."

Loki knew for a fact that his brother had not heard a word of the details spoken beyond "King", "Throne", and "Rule". Perhaps this would be the moment that Odin realized what a colossal mistake he was making in handing the fate of the Nine Realms over to a man-boy not remotely suited to rule.

"Is there someone else, Thor?" Frigga asked gently. "Some maiden here on Asgard, perhaps, who has stolen your heart?"

"No," Thor muttered, a petulant look on his face.

"Well then, I think this offer needs to be seriously considered," Odin pronounced. "You are past the age where one would expect you to fall headlong in love if it were going to happen. A royal Vanir bride sounds quite promising. Thank you, Freyang, for bringing us Njord's offer. Please tell him we will think long and hard on this, and hope that either way he joins us for the celebration."

"I will do so, Odin Allfather," she answered, bowing again.

"I think that's enough for one afternoon, don't you?" Frigga suggested to Odin, looking across the table at her squirming sons. 

"Quite so," Odin agreed quickly in relief, rising and causing everyone else to do the same. "You are all dismissed."

"Odin's beard, a bride!" Thor groaned, as soon as he and Loki had fled the room. "Did you hear how she described her? Virtuous, secluded? What would I ever do with that?"

"She does sound a bit... tame for your liking," Loki grinned. 

"Tame? She sounds damn near unapproachable! And why would they keep her secret in seclusion for all this time? Probably has spots and buck teeth, not to mention breath that would stun a horse!"

"Well, why didn't you claim affection to someone else? Sif, for instance. Mother would love to see you married to her, and she is as lovely and lively as you could ask for!"

"Oh, come brother," Thor guffawed, "I would not serve Sif such a poor turn! She would kill me if I tried to trap her into marriage."

Loki thought his eyes might roll out of his head at his brother's lack of insight. If he should ever come to his senses and propose marriage to the long suffering Lady Sif, it would make her the happiest woman in all the Realms. It seemed there was no accounting for taste in matters of the heart.

"Drinks brother?" Thor asked hopefully as they reached the bottom of the stairs to Loki's tower.

"Ah, not this time," Loki said with false regret.

"Something sweeter awaiting you upstairs?" Thor asked knowingly.

"I am not one to kiss and tell, brother," Loki answered primly.

"No more maids for me soon," Thor mourned. "I think I will find Fandrall and go in search of some while I'm still able. Wish me luck."

"Luck," he smiled, glad to be so quickly rid of him.

Loki didn't need luck. He made his own, and now the sweetest body, possessed of the sharpest mind awaited him at the top of these stairs. With a smile of anticipation, he began taking the steps two at a time.

***

She was in a fairy tale, that was the only explanation that made sense. She had fallen asleep, and dreamed herself into one of her stories. For now, here she was, the damsel rescued by the handsome prince and brought back to the safety of his tower. It had been enough, or so she had told herself, when she had merely been his servant. She had had books and pens and paper to her hearts content. But now, now she had the Prince himself. Her Prince. Had him in every way she had ever dreamed. Or at least, almost every way. Some ways were not allowed, even in stories. She was still a servant, after all.

Still, that was a thought for another day. For today, she would allow nothing to disrupt her happiness. She was even singing,  _singing_ as cleaned, and Norns knew the last time that had happened. They had made rather a mess of the rooms, but nothing could have made her happier than wandering around, putting all to rights as she thought of the ways they had been messed to begin with. Sheets shoved from the bed, pillows tossed about, it all spoke of the passion they had shared. The passion yet to come as well.

And she had agreed. Agreed to be his, and more than his. To submit. She had never done so in the past. Her experience with men was not vast, consisting solely of two different students who had studied under her Grandfather. One had been sweet, and had even asked for her hand. This had enraged her Grandfather for reasons she had been unaware of at the time, and the poor young man had vanished, never to return. The second man had been a cad, and indeed the one to begin all of their problems. Still smarting from the unknown reasoning behind her first lover's defection, Lysse had been ripe picking for the noble foreign Lord. His disdain when she went to him the next day, expecting him to still maintain his ardor for her, only to find him already seducing one of the librarians in her place, had been the ultimate humiliation. What followed after he had gone home to brag about his various conquests had been even worse. 

Once again pushing unwelcome thoughts from her mind, Lysse tried to anticipate what, exactly, she had agreed to. She had read books, hidden beneath her blankets at home, of relationships of the kind Loki had proposed. Had imagined herself as the women in those stories, bound, helpless, completely at the mercy of her Master. It had been far more successful in making her cum than either of her former lovers had. She had fantasized for years over those books before they had suddenly disappeared, followed by a stern look from her Grandmother over breakfast the next morning. But she had never met anyone who she could imagine trusting in the way those women in the books trusted their Masters. No one she would feel safe turning her body over to completely. No one until now.

"Lysse, darling, are you up here?" the most beautiful voice in all the worlds called, humor in his tone.

Of course she was up here, she thought with a laugh. Where else would she be? If she could stay in these magical rooms forever she would be completely content.

"I'm in here," she called back, straightening her hair in the dresser mirror. 

"In the bedroom already, what a remarkably clever girl I've found!" Loki grinned, crossing and pulling her into his arms.

"You're in a good mood," she observed, when he finally let her up for air from his kiss.

"Why should I not be?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and bringing her down onto his lap.

"You were at a council meeting," she suggested. She knew that generally speaking these did not put him in the best of temperament.

"Observant as well as clever," he smiled, hand finding its way up her let to begin casually fondling her over her knickers. "This one, however, had quite an amusing diversion at the end."

"What was that," she asked, breath hitching as his devilish fingers slid underneath the cotton covering her.

"It seems Kingship comes with some stipulations that my brother, for all his superior mental capacity, did not account for," he laughed ironically.

"What is.... ooooh," Lysse moaned as two long digits pushed into her, sliding easily with all the arousal his mere presence inspired in her.

"Hm... was someone having dirty thoughts in my absence?" Loki purred, stroking her. "I don't know if I like that. All of your lust should be saved for when I am here to appreciate it."

Lysse's eyes rolled back as his thumb started to play over her clit, and she shamelessly began to ride his fingers. Norns, but he was good at this.

"Tell me you were at least thinking about me, Sparrow," he whispered in her ear.

"Yes, Loki," she breathed between sobs as he crooked his digits to increase her arousal.

"And just what, my naughty girl, were you thinking?"

"About... about submitting to you," she admitted, head thrown back onto his shoulder.

"And that made you this wet?" he asked smugly, bending down to lick at her neck.

"Yes," she admitted with another moan.

"You want me to control you. To make you please me. To bend you to my will."

"Yes. Yes, Loki. Please, Master."

"Then get on your knees, Sparrow," he told her, pulling his hand free of her.

Eyes going wide, Lysse slid off of his lap and down onto the floor in front of him. With a bright smile, he brought his hand to her mouth and ran his thumb over her lips, pulling the bottom lip down. Unthinking, Lysse sucked his thumb in and began sucking on it, tasting her own juices on him as she bathed it with her tongue.

"Sweet Vallhallah, Sparrow," he groaned, eyes closing briefly, "open my trousers. Now."

Hands shaking, she reached forward and undid the laces on his leather pants. As soon as she finished, his cock sprung free, purple and engorged, before her face. He gave it a few strokes and then removed his thumb from her, holding his cock before her face.

"Hands behind you back," he instructed. "You will only use your pretty mouth."

Obeying without question, Lysse clasped her hands behind her back and leaned forward to take him in. She had never attempted this before, and at first was at a loss as to how to proceed. It took very little time, however, before she started to be able to tell what he liked. The noises he made, the way he pulsed in her mouth, the way his body shuddered, all of these were the keys to unlocking his preferences, and Lysse was always a quick study. When she had teased his head and licked all up and down his length, including his balls instinctively when she arrived at them, she took a deep breath and let the muscles in her throat relax. There was discomfort, and she gagged more than she wanted to, but the guttural sound that came from him more than made up for her trouble.

"I have dreamt of this since the day I met you," he told her, hands in her hair setting a pace as she began to move on him. "The way you knelt before me, mouth at just the right height. This was all I could think of. And again when I presented you with your uniform. You have lips that were made to suck and kiss, Sparrow. But even I never dreamed how good you would feel."

She was blossoming under his praise, taking more and more of him into her mouth, working harder to insure his pleasure. It was with some surprise, therefore, when she felt him pull out of her with a groan. Standing up, he pulled her to her feet as well, and spun her around.

"I can't wait to cum in your mouth, Sparrow," he growled in her ear. "But right now, I need to feel myself in your cunt. I have been craving it."

With a hand on the back of her neck, he bent her over until her top half laid down on the bed, forcing her up onto her tiptoes. Her skirt was unceremoniously flipped up, and with anther growl he tore her panties off of her.

"There's something we need to address," he said darkly in her ear. "Underwear is about to be a thing of the past for you, my dear. It is far too in the way. But for now..."

He thrust himself inside of her, burying his cock with one steady push. Lysse cried out as she felt him pulse within her, surprised yet again at how perfectly he filled every spare bit of her. Holding her hips, he began pumping in and out, grunting as he did. Her own cries soon consisted of nothing more than his name and his fingers came down to tease her clit.

"You will not cum until I tell you, Sparrow," he commanded.

She had been just on the edge when he made this shocking pronouncement, and it took all of her willpower to stop herself from teetering over. The whimpering noises she was making became desperate, and he laughed darkly as he continued his torment with his fingers and cock.

"I am almost there, sweetheart," he told her, speeding his rhythm. "Almost ready to fill you. And when I do, when I coat you with my seed, you will cum for me."

"Yes, yes Loki, please!" she panted, desperate for release.

"Now, darling! Cum for your Master!"

With a deafening noise the two of them climaxed together, and Lysse once again felt the surreal sensation of floating and falling all at once. Her body shook and her breathing was labored as she struggled to come back to the ground, struggled to stay afloat, in the aftermath of their explosion.

"That's my darling Sparrow," he cooed in her ear, lying on top of her. "So good for me. So warm and sweet."

It was some time later, with both of them sprawled on the floor. Loki sat leaning on the bed with Lysse's head cradled in his lap. She smiled as he absently stroked her hair, feeling a warm glow all through her body.

"So what was it?" she asked, idly.

"What was what, love?"

"The stipulation to Kingship that your brother did not expect."

"It seems he is to married," Loki laughed.

"Well, that seems sensible," she shrugged. "The succession must be secure and such. I assume this is a hypothetical marriage that will be discussed over time?"

"Oh no," Loki laughed harder, causing her to roll over and stare up at him. "That's what is so amusing. They have a bride all picked out for him, and there's not a damn thing he can do about it with out setting off a horrible inter-realm incident."

"Really? Who is the lucky lady?" she asked dryly.

"The perfect match for my martial brother," Loki smirked. "Some temple raised virgin of the Vanir. Lord Njord's daughter. Have you ever heard of such an absurd match?"

"No," Lysse said, all the joy in her turning to ash. "No, I have not."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki struggles to find the source of Lysse's anxiety

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to leave these rooms, Sparrow,” Loki said with a groan as he dismissed the out of breath messenger who had brought the missive up to their rooms.

Strange how he was already thinking of them as “their rooms” even in his mind. Lysse still insisted on wearing her uniform and making a show of cleaning, even though there was very little mess to speak of besides the clothes he seemed to be peeling off of her on a regular basis. He had always loved his tower, loved the solitude of it, but now he loved even more the companionship it contained. He thought he could very happily spend a century not venturing so much as a step out of the cozy nest they had made for themselves. 

“Please tell me you are using the Royal We,” she said from where she sat, picking over the remains of her luncheon.

His little Sparrow had been anxious these last two days, and for the life of him Loki could not think of why. At first he had worried that perhaps she regretted giving herself completely to him, and was seeking a way to break the agreement she had so hastily entered into. It had crushed him to think that he might be coercing her into granting him such power over her body. That fear, however, did not really bear out closer reflection. Lysse’s reactions to his lovemaking, and to his dominance in particular, were flatteringly enthusiastic and undeniably genuine. The unbridled passion she showed when he took her, bending her to his desires, was a balm to Loki’s ego in these days leading up to Thor’s coronation.

No, it was on those occasions when they were _not_ ardently seeking bliss in each other that her worry revealed itself. Their magic lessons resumed, and she continued to show remarkable progress as he took her through the basic steps, picking them up at a staggering pace. Every so often, however, her concentration would wander to chaotic results. Loki would have understood, and smugly preened, if this came about as her infamous negligee had, from obvious lust at how he chose to “inspire” her. But more often than not it happened when he was busy at his own books and she was practicing by herself. On one memorable occasion, he had come running from his study at the sound of what could only be termed an explosion, only to find the living room flooded ankle deep in sea water. 

Lysse has been horrified, stammering out an apology, as Loki stared, open mouthed, at his soggy room. She was waiting for him to scream at her, he could tell. When instead he burst out laughing, she had almost appeared disappointed. 

“Oh, my darling Sparrow,” he had finally said, wiping the tears off his cheeks. “Do you think you are the only one to lose the thread of a spell? Remind me to tell you of the time I released a flock of geese into Odin's bathing chamber while he was in the midst of his morning's washing!”

As he had looked at her, staring guiltily at her feet, lower lip between her teeth, soaked dress clinging to her body, Loki’s desire had flared. It was amazing how quickly and how often she could have that affect on him.

”On the other hand,” he had said in a much darker tone, waving his hand to instantly dry the room, though leaving her dress as it was, “lack of attention cannot be allowed to go unpunished, lest it become a habit. Over to the table, Sparrow. Bend down and grab the far side.”

Eyes big, she had obeyed him without question, leaning her body down to rest on the breakfast table. Loki had looked in hunger at her, so compliant with his commands, just a hint of fear in her eyes betraying how new this all was to her.

”I am going to spank you now, Lysse,” he had told her, running his had over her obediently pantiless, upturned ass, “in order to correct your error. After every stroke I expect you to thank me, as I do this for your benefit, not mine.”

He had not been able to resist smiling as he said this blatant lie. Yes, it was for her correction, of course. But the pleasure it would afford him could not be believably denied.

For her first spanking she had taken it well. He had not struck her _too hard_ , but had made sure that she would feel the sting for some time. The sight of his large red handprints covering the rounded curve of her ass had set him on fire. When she had moaned out her thanks to him, calling him her master in a voice throbbing with desire each time, he had felt like an emperor. After he had doled out ten hard swats with his hand, he had drifted his fingers downwards and found to his absolute delight that she was as drenched from his punishment as the room had been from her spell.

”Oh, Sparrow,” he had groaned, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste her, “You will be the death or the salvation of me, I neither know nor care not which!”

Turning her over, smiling a bit sadistically at her yelp when her sore ass hit the table, he had spread open her legs wide and, freeing himself, thrust his cock into her warm sheath. He had known his hard thrusts, making her bounce against the wood, must heightening the sting in her rear, but rather than complain she had seemed to be driven on by the sharp pain, crying out encouragement with every snap of his hips. Her wanton reaction had brought out the feral side of him, and Loki was soon snarling like an animal as he had taken her with all the force he could command. It was a wonder the table had survived.

No, their amorous activities were not what was bothering her. Nor, did he think, was it the sad reality that theirs could never be more than an illicit affair. His Sparrow was a practical girl, for all her love of fairy tales. Indeed, the impossibility of their future together seemed to bother him more than her.

The only explanation left, once he had exhausted all of the selfish ones that naturally came first to his mind, was that something from her past had risen up to alarm her. 

He had noted from the beginning that she preferred to keep away from the more august areas of the palace. It explained why he had not seen her before that fateful day in the gardens. Loki might not have been in the habit of bedding beautiful maids, but that certainly did not mean he was blind to them. Lysse would never have escaped his notice had he seen her wandering the corridors or in the grand hall. He was quite sure he had not. She was more than happy to run below stairs to the kitchens for food for him, (now them), but when Frigga had requested her assistance she had overcome her shyness enough to ask for permission to complete it in his rooms, rather than in the Queens chambers. At the time Loki had chalked it up to an aversion to gossiping courtiers, but what if it was more than that? What if Lysse was hiding?

He had yet to hear back from his agents, and their delay was beginning to vex him. How hard could it be to track down a beautiful girl of brilliant intelligence? In his whole life he had never come across more than a handful. 

“Loki?” Lysse ventured, and he realized he had been lost in his thoughts for some time. 

“My apologies, Sparrow,” he said with a smile. “My mind went wandering. To how lovely your ass looked freshly painted red from my hand, if you would know where. Is it still marked, love? Should I paint it again?”

”It is quite red as yet, Master,” she said, ducking her head with a blush and causing Loki to stiffen. “Did you mean I will need to leave your rooms as well?”

”I fear so,” he sighed, claiming her waist with his arm and pulling her against him. “All of the realms will be sending their emissaries soon, and that will mean all hands on deck. You will be needed to serve at the feasts at very least.”

"Must I, My Lord Prince?" she asked, reverting to his formal title. "I hate to shirk my duty, but is their not some task I could complete out of the public eye?"

"Unfortunately, I doubt that will be allowed," he told her. "But it will not be that bad. I would rather have you sitting beside me, or lying beneath me of course, but your presence behind my chair will be a welcome one. And if you are feeling nervous about serving me in such exalted company, well... perhaps I can come up with a distraction for you so that you are not able to dwell on those sorts of details."

In his mind, Loki began thinking of all the various ways he could outfit Lysse for the feasting. What gloriously depraved things he could get away with doing to her right under the noses of the crème de la crème of all society. It was a challenge he had no intention of letting pass unmet.

"And all the realms will be represented?" she asked as he began to nibble on her neck in thought. "All the royalty?"

"All the ones we are at peace with," he allowed, "I hardly think the Laufey of the Frost Giants is planning to take a place at the table, but the Elves, the Dwarves, the Vanir... they will all send their rulers. It is what all the damnable meetings have been about, all of them jockeying for the best terms. Not that any of them will ever best my mother, though. She excels at managing all of that."

He was aware of her heightened anxiety as she listened to his words, but by then he was too caught up in the exploration of her body with his tongue to give it the consideration it was due, and so stored it away for later examination. He had his priorities, after all.

***

Lysse lay in Loki's arms on the sofa, body exhausted but mind in a whirl. It had been like this constantly in the two days since his last council meeting. He was an expert at distracting her. All he had to do was look at her with his hot eyes and drop his voice to that low, commanding tone and she was putty in his hands, willing and ready to do anything he wanted. Her mind would go blissfully blank as he fucked all thoughts out of her head beyond the way he made her feel and how well he played her body. But eventually the bliss would end and the worry would return.

She knew she could not delay forever. She was going to have to leave. Leave service, leave the palace, leave Loki. She told herself this continually, and yet she made no move to do so.

It would be pointless to run  anyway, she tried to tell herself. Loki would not let her go. He would come after her, find her where ever she ran. He was a God after all. But why, the other side of her brain would counter, would he bother to chase after a serving girl who ran away from all he was offering her. Yes, she gave him access to her body, but she was not a fool. Loki would never be at a loss for partners should he choose to seek one out. She had been convenient, certainly, and intrigued him with her love of books and facility with magic, but surly there were plenty of other literate women who would murder to share the bed of her Prince. The idea did not cheer her in the slightest.

And so inertia had its way. She kept to her rooms - Loki's rooms - as much as she could, but as the coronation approached the palace was on complete wartime footing. Everyone was pressed into service. Everyone except Loki, that is, as her Master managed to extract himself from the preparation to work on whatever the secret spell was that had obsessed him since the day they met.

Her one hope was that she did not look very much like the girl who had left the University all of those months ago. Her face had thinned out during the time when she had fist been wandering from village to village, no clear plan of where to go, and no assurance of regular meals. She had let her hair grow, transitioning from the short, practical style that her Grandmother despised to a longer, less fashionable fall of tresses that she kept secured in a loose ribbon. Add all of this to the servant's uniform, rough hands, and anonymity of the working class and there was a good chance no one from her former life would so much as look twice at her. And it wasn't as though  _that man_ had seen her more than once in her life. She should be safe.

She let the time slip by. Let one day slide into another as she stored up memories with Loki. If she did have to run, or if she was found, she wanted to have as much time with him to look back on as possible. Even if she was safe and the coronation passed them by without incident she would be crazy to think that this idyllic life they were creating could continue. He was a Prince of Asgard. She was his maid. This was not a story book. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of plot and exposition. Smut will be back soon, I promise!

There was only a day left. One day before the delegation from Vanaheim arrived. She had to leave. Now. Before they got here and her world exploded once more. 

She didn't want to go. 

She loved Loki, in a way she had never loved anyone else before. Not that she hadn't loved her Grandparents; of course she had. They had taken care of her, nurtured her, made her the person she was today. But Loki. Loki had awakened something in her that she never knew was there. A passion that made all that came before it seem a pale imitation of a life. A story of existence read at a safe distance.

She couldn't lose this. Not when she had just begun exploring all the different avenues to joy. It wasn't only the physical passion they shared, thought that would have been enough. He had brought magic into her life. Literally! The wonder of it, of having all that power thrilling through her veins with out ever having realized it was overwhelming. Above everything else, she would always be grateful for showing her the potential she possessed.

Maybe that was the key! She had magic, she had been learning to harness it here with him. Perhaps there was a way she could cover herself, a glamour of some sort, that she could cast so that Njord was unable to see who she really was. 

Suddenly seized with a frantic energy, Lysse began thumbing through the magic books in Loki's study. There were various spells for changing your appearance, of course, but none of those would work for her. If she suddenly became someone else, Loki would certainly notice! He seemed inordinately fond of how she looked, she could not help thinking with a smile. He told her so often enough, frequently in lurid, graphic terms. No, she needed something that would allow her to focus the spell so that only Njord was affected.

Throwing aside her third book in frustration, Lysse began to pace the room. Loki was down in the practice pitch, training with his brother. Thor had arrived anxious and irritable, demanding that Loki stop spending all his time in bed with his lover and come fight with him.

They had, in fact, been in the bath and not the bed when he had clamored into the suite. Loki had filled the giant tub with scented oils, and they had just settled into the hot, aromatic water when they were interrupted by his brother. After promising to meet him shortly, Loki had slammed back into the washroom, towel slung low around his hips and stared at her, lounging in the suds. 

"Do you have to go?" she had asked, looking up at him with big eyes.

"Oh, Sparrow," he had groaned, wetting his lips with his tongue as she splashed in the tub. "You have no idea how tempted I am to tell my brother to leap from the Bifrost, but I fear he is in a state."

"I understand," she had said.

"I had such plans for the morning, Sparrow," he sighed, sitting on the edge of the tub and running his hands over her wet, soapy breasts. "I was going to show you a new way of pleasing me. After we had relaxed in the tub, let all the stress melt out your nubile body, I was going to open you up in ways you have yet to experience, and enjoy. To work my way in to your remaining tight little passage, and teach you how to take pleasure from the violation."

Lysse had trembled, in fear and longing both. She wanted it. Oh yes, she wanted to experience everything with him. His size was concerning, but she trusted him to make it good for her.

"Would you like that, Sparrow," he had asked her, sliding his hand lower to caress her slit. "Like me to claim that last virgin part of you?"

"Yes, Master," she sighed, leaning back and letting his fingers bring her to release. 

That had been hours ago. The anxiety had come on gradually at first, then exponentially after from there. Now she was in desperate need of a stroke of luck. He had to be back soon. She had gone through all of the books on the two shelves she was given access to.

Lysse's eyes strayed to the third bookshelf.

"No, Lyssette," she said aloud to herself. "Loki has one rule. Those books are off limits."

Walking to the shelf, she ran her eyes over the titles written on the spines. Most of them were in languages even she didn't know, but one of them was written in the ancient runes. There, hand drawn in glowing red letters, it read "Unknown, Unseen, and Unbelieved."

"It couldn't hurt to just _read it_ ," she said, biting her lip. "Don't be a coward, Lysette. It's a book."

Before she could change her mind, her had flew out and grabbed it from the shelf. It was cold in her hands. If the other spell books had thrummed with a distant power, this one vibrated visibly in her hands. As she held it before her, the tome opened up on its own to a well read page. There, scrawled in a messy hand, read: " _Hidden From the Eyes of Gods"._

***

“Prince Loki!”

With an exasperated sigh, Loki stopped and turned around to see who had called him. He had just finished a punishing workout in the practice pitch during which Thor had tried to take out all his aggression at the coming celebration on his younger brother’s body. Fortunately Loki was quick and agile, able to avoid or deflect most of his large brother’s over zealous blows. Still, all he wanted at the moment was to return to his chambers and sink into a nice, steaming bath. Preferably with a cozy little Bird to wash some of his harder to reach, or simply harder in general, places. 

He was surprised when he saw that the person calling to him was Freyang, the Vanir ambassador. He knew that the woman had stayed after delivering her message, and that she had been spending quite a bit of time carousing with Thor and his friends, but he could think of no reason for her to seek him out. 

“My Lady,” he greeted her courteously, bowing slightly. “What can I do for you?”

”Please do not think me over bold, Your Highness,” she said awkwardly, “but I wondered if I might speak to you for a moment. About a rather delicate matter.”

Loki, now thoroughly intrigued, motioned her over to a bench and sat beside her. The woman looked ill at ease, dressed in court clothing as befitted the royal palace. Loki could tell she would far rather be on the battle field, weapon in her hand. He knew her type and could see her discomfort in the way her hand kept going to rest on her nonexistent sword. 

“How May I be of assistance?” He asked. 

“You no doubt find it odd of me to accost you so,” she began. “I assure you I would not normally do so. But this is not a normal... My lord Prince, I am distressed to say that I find myself in a bit of a moral dilemma.”

”Oh, I excel at those,” Loki told her with a twinkle in his eye. “Why don’t you tell me what you want but shouldn’t have, and I will come up with a reason why you should and show you how to go about getting it.”

Freyang looked at him blankly, ad if trying to decide whether he was joking or not. 

“I have, since arriving on Asgard to serve as ambassador,” she continued, opting to ignore his previous comment, “become companionable with your brother Thor. I have seen, in how he comports himself both in the council chamber and the training ring, that he is an upright, honorable warrior.”

Loki suppressed a snigger thinking of Thor in the council chamber staring at her breasts, but nonetheless he nodded at her. People were always quick to ascribe any positive attribute to his brother. It came with the heroic blond looks and dull brain, Loki had long ago decided.

”Thor is, of course, the noblest of men,” he said blandly, as some sort of agreement seemed to be expected. 

“He has often described you to me as the cleverest, most cunning person he knows,” she confided earnestly. “What would you do, my lord, if your duty and your honor stood in stark contrast to each other? Could you allow yourself to betray someone you cared about... could potentially come to _deeply_ care about... if you had been ordered by your liege lord to do so?”

Loki thought that for himself, he would hardly let as trifling a thing as duty stand in the way of his own desires. He was fiercely loyal to those he cared about - Lysse, Frigga, even Thor and Odin if it came to that, and had his own personal code, but blind duty to an arbitrary authority figure went against his nature. 

“Am I correct in assuming this has something to do with my brother?” he asked gently. “And Njord’s requests in regard to his coronation?”

”You are every bit as clever as your brother said, My Lord!” She breathed in awe. 

Loki had to work very hard not to laugh at her reaction. In truth he would have to be dull as dirt not to have deduced it. She was obviously infatuated with his brother, and who else but Njord would command her loyalty?

”Would this, perhaps, have something to do with the proposed betrothal between Prince Thor and Njord’s daughter?”

Again, an easy assumption considering where Freyang’s feelings for his brother were most likely to conflict with her lord’s interests.

”It is indeed in regards to that supposed proposal.”

”Supposed proposal?” Loki looked at her, honestly surprised for the first time. “Is it not genuine then? I will confess I had never heard that Njord had a daughter. But why would then would he propose a wedding?”

”I may have said too much,” she fretted, suddenly looking anxious. 

“Lady Freyang,” Loki said sternly, slipping into the formal tones of a Prince of the Blood, “what ever your duty to Njord, your primary loyalty should and must be to Odin as Allfather of the Nine Realms. If you were to aid in perpetuating fraud upon him and his family, his throne, I promise you his retribution would make anything Njord could threaten you with pale in comparison.”

”You are right, My Prince,” she said, reacting just as he had hoped. “Njord does have a daughter, My Lord... after a fashion.”

”After a fashion? What do you by that?” 

“I mean that he sired her, and that she would indeed be of marriageable age for Prince Thor,” she hedged.

”What is the problem then? Besides your own feelings I mean.”

”He does not know where she is,” she blurted out, made embarrassed by his allusion to her regard for his brother. “To my knowledge he has only laid eyes on the girl once in her life. He seized on the idea of the betrothal when he learned from spies that the light elves meant to offer a daughter of their court as a bride for Thor at the coronation. So close an alliance between the elves and aesir would diminish Vaneheim’s position among the realms.”

”I see,” Loki did. It made sense in a desperate sort of way. “He prevents the imminent union of his King to his rival. I suppose, if he manages to delay long enough, the girl might be rounded up and presented as an actual potential bride.”

”If he can found,” Freyang stipulated. “She ran from her home when she discovered Fjord was her father and meant to use her for his own ends.”

”And I am assuming it was not a virginal temple from which she ran?” he asked, laughing at the audacity of it all.

”It was not, My Lord," she affirmed seriously. Loki began to wonder if this woman had any concept of humor.

"You have done the right thing by telling me, Lady Freyang," Loki told her, taking her hand. "I will make sure that all turns out for the best."

The best for him, he added, silently as he rose. Loki was already sorting through in his mind how he could use this to his own advantage or amusement. As he bowed over her hand again, a stray thought crossed his mind.

"Out of curiosity," he asked, "where was the girl? How was it Njord didn't know about her?"

"Her mother was no one of consequence," Freyang shrugged, "just some commoner Njord dallied with for short space of time while he was researching some random magical whatever he came upon. He left without realizing the woman had conceived."

"A Vanir woman?" Loki asked, sudden chill running through his blood.

"No," she said, "she was Aesir, I believe. The daughter of the scholar Njord was consulting with."

"I see. I am surprised she never contacted him. A God, after all, would be a useful father for any child she had."

"It is my understanding that she died. In child birth. The Grandparents raised the girl."

Loki was suddenly no longer looking at her. His eyes were seeing a different face. Bigger eyes, softer body, a body he knew intimately well and was getting to know better every day. If he was right, and he was fairly certain he was, he had discovered the secret of his Sparrows identity. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past comes to light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a bit exposition heavy, but hopefully still entertaining!
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and congrats to the clever people who picked up on Lysse's identity! :)

"Loki!" Frigga smiled as he entered her study, looking up from a pile of papers set out before her. "This is an unlooked for surprise!"

"A pleasant one, I dare hope," he said, affecting a deliberately casual air.

"Of course. Give me one moment to affix my seal to this document, and you will have my whole attention."

Loki wandered, seemingly at random, around the familiar room, taking comfort in the calming aura that his mother had always carried with her. So many of the defining moments of his youth had taken place within the walls surrounding him now. Frigga had always been his touchstone. In the testosterone driven world of Asgard, it had been easy for a thin, intelligent, mischievous boy to feel lost and alone. Frigga had helped to make him feel like there was a place for him.

"There we are," Frigga smiled, sitting back in her chair and looking up at him. "Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"Can I not just drop in on my mother without ulterior motives?" he asked, sitting down across from her.

"You can, but I doubt you have," she replied with a laugh. "I have not seen you much these past few days, Loki. And when you have been dragged out of your tower, you seem much distracted. Tell me, is it your mysterious spell that has been keeping you so preoccupied, or are there other, more pressing matters demanding your attention?"

"Mother, I am surprised at you! Listening to palace gossip!"

"That is not a no," she pointed out. "I will admit, I have heard rumors. They are hard to avoid these days."

"And if the gossip is true?" he asked, tensing as he waited for the disapproval from the only person who's opinion truly mattered to him.

"Then I am glad that you have found some happiness in your life," she said simply. "I know you, Loki. In many ways better than you know yourself. If you have begun a relationship with Lysse, then it will not be out of laziness or ease of access, as is the case so often when noblemen take their pleasure from the serving class. No, for you to open up to someone in that way, in your very chambers, there would have to be trust."

"Ah, trust," he said, a note of bitterness creeping into his voice. "That is a tricky thing, isn't it."

He was not, in truth, completely sure why he was there. He had meant to go back to his rooms, to find Lysse and confront her with the truth he had discovered. To let her know that he had learned her secret. But then what? Would she deny it? Lie to his face? Pretend that she was no more than the lowly maid he had rescued? And if she did admit to her lineage, where did they go from there? Her father was the ruler of Vanaheim, god of the Seas. She herself, though not a Goddess being of half blood, was still of the Vanir. A worthy consort for a God. For a King.

"Loki, what is bothering you?" she asked, concern in her tone. "Did something happen with Lysse?"

"It seems to me that it is my brother's love life we should be concentrating on, not mine," he said, waspishly. "Is he really to marry the Vanir girl?"

He had to tread very carefully here, Loki reminded himself. In all the realms there were very few minds subtler than his Friggas, and she knew him very well. Still, he needed more information before he could make any well thought decisions.

"It looks more and more likely," Frigga shrugged. "I would have him wait and marry for love, but you know your father. And he is right that the Realms must be secure."

"But we know so little of this girl," Loki pointed out. "No one has even seen her. How do we know she even really exists?"

"You have always been too clever for your own good," his mother sighed, looking at him sharply. "I had the same thought, after Freyang first proposed the union. I have known Njord most of my life, for we were raised together. He is intelligent, powerful, and full of arrogance. It does not sit easy with him that he and his realm are subjects of your father. It was only my presence on Asgard, one of the Vanir ruling as queen, that appeased his sense of honor. If Thor takes the throne, he leaves an opening for one of the other Realms to take that honor. The Elves, in particular, have long coveted a spot on Asgard's dais. Njord will never accept that. The sudden appearance of a daughter seemed too much of a coincidence. Naturally, I sent out inquiries."

"Spies, you mean," he smiled, seeing Frigga grimace at the indelicate word. "And?"

"It seems that Njord did indeed sire a daughter some time ago," Frigga sighed, confirming what Loki already knew. "But she is not the temple virgin he makes her out to be."

"Indeed?" Loki tried not to look too interested.

"She was raised in a university, right here on Asgard. From what I could tell, Njord was rather... indelicate with her mother, who was of honest if not noble birth. He left with no knowledge of the baby he had sired, and remained in ignorance until a year or so ago."

"How did he learn of her?" Loki couldn't help asking.

"It seems it was luck more than anything," Frigga said. "Njord happened to overhear a young lord describing a conquest he had made while visiting a University in Asgard. It struck a chord. When Njord demanded a description of this girl and her family, he grew suspicious. Further investigation proved her to be his daughter, hidden from him by her maternal grandparents. He confronted the family and the girl, traumatized, I would imagine, fled."

"So he does not have her," Loki tried to remain calm. It all fit too neatly. All of his doubt was gone.

"He does not," Frigga nodded. "But I would not expect that to last long. Njord can be single minded when he wants something, and right now he wants very badly to find his daughter. She is reputed to be very beautiful, as one would expect of the Vanir, as well as kind and intelligent. Just the type of Queen that Asgard would need. He has his agents scouring Asgard for her, and from correspondence I have... intercepted, he believes he has tracked down her location. The tone of his letter was very hopeful that he would have brought her to heel in time to complete the marriage contract with your brother."

"And what then? This pour, traumatized girl is given like a bartered animal to Thor? All for the glory of a father she fled and a realm she never knew?"

"It is sweet of you to take her part, Loki," Frigga smiled. "You always have had a soft spot for broken birds and wounded animals. I hope you never lose that. But you are assuming she would not wish to be married to your brother, or to be Queen. Many are the girls who would jump at the chance to do either."

Which was exactly what Loki did  _not_ want to hear. Would Lysse feel that way? She had never expressed a desire for power, and certainly never for his brother. Still, they had never truly been offered to her. He could see her, gold crown on her head, robes of state flowing from her delicate shoulders. She would be a wise queen, and a compassionate one. But it was not Thor who his mind pictured standing next to her on the dais. 

"Well, I hate to cut our talk short, but I really must get back to work," Frigga sighed. "Your father is a wise ruler, but he is tragically remis when it comes to the bureaucratic aspects."

"He is more fortunate than any man deserves to be to have you," Loki smiled, standing and kissing her cheek.

"Give Lysse my best," Frigga said slyly as he turned to go.

"If you'd like," Loki offered off hand, "I could see to the marriage contract."

"Why would you do that?" Frigga asked, startled.

"Well, someone must make sure that the girl's needs are looked after," he shrugged. "And Asgard's of course."

"Very well, I would be grateful to have one less thing on my plate. And Loki, I hope you never lose your compassion for the little birds."

"Oh, trust me Mother," he said with a smile, "this is one little bird I intend to take good care of."

 

***

The spell,  _Hidden from the Eyes of Gods,_ was really not that complicated. The work that Loki had been taking her through up until now seemed oddly designed to assist in just the sort of work that was required for its completion. It was fate, she decided, guiding her to this page.

She hadn't had much use for fate over the last year. Fate had been what caused her undoing, after all. Fate that had led the young Vanir Lord to her Grandfather just when she had been feeling the most vulnerable, and thus into her bed. And fate had ruled that the arrogant man boast of that bedding where her unknown father would hear of it. 

When Njord had stormed into her Grandfather's offices a year ago, she had been blissfully oblivious to her royal heritage. She wished she was oblivious now. Her Grandfather had taken one look at the towering blond God with the sea grey eyes and his face had turned white as a ghost.

"Where is she," Njord's voice had been cold and implacable, like waves crashing on rocks.

"Lyssabelle is dead," Grandfather had growled. "You will not be able to abuse her again."

"I do not ask after your whore daughter!" the God had hissed. "Where is the girl? The child that was hid from me?"

"Hid from you?" Grandfather had choked out. "There was no need to hide anyone. You had your way with Lyssabelle and then abandoned her without a second thought. You never asked whether your cursed seed had taken root."

"I am asking now," Njord had advanced on Grandfather, his hand going around the old man's throat. "Where is the one you named Lyssetta?"

"I am here, don't hurt him!" Lysse had cried, stepping out from behind the bookshelf.

Njord had let her Grandfather go and she gasped as the old man fell to the floor like a bag of grain. Not even bothering to look at the fallen man, Njord had crossed the room and took Lysse's chin in his hand, searching her upturned face.

"It is true," he had breathed, a smile tilting the corner of his lips. "You are Vanir. I will call you Etta, a more proper name. Less of your undesirable mother in it."

"I am Aesir," she corrected. "As my Grandfather is. Please, My Lord, let me see to him!"

As Njord released her, Lysse had run over to her Grandfather who was lying passed out on the cold stone floor. His breathing had been coming in rasps, and his face devoid of color.

"What have you done to him?" she had demanded.

"No more than he deserved," Njord had shrugged. "You do not belong here, pretty little one. You belong with me. You belong to me."

"She does not such thing," Lysette's Grandmother had said, stepping into the room and glaring at the God. "She belongs to no one but herself. Certainly not to the man who raped her mother!"

"I gifted her mother with my seed," Njord had corrected her Grandmother. "She was honored. She should have returned the fruit of the seed to me. I will take her now."

"You will do no such thing!" Grandmother had replied, stepping in front of Lysette protectively. "You ruined one of my girls, you will not be ruining the other!"

"Don't think I won't kill you, old lady!" Njord had threatened, advancing on them.

Lysse didn't know where the idea had come from. She had never put much stock in magic, though she had read a good deal about it. Seeing her Grandfather, lifeless on the floor, and her Grandmother small and defenseless, and yet heartbreakingly brave before the tall, imposing God, she had reached for anything she could think of.

The chandelier had just happened to be directly above Njord. She had just happened to know the words for "chain" and "flowers" in the old tongue. What had made her speak those words, envisioning the chandelier chain turning into daisies she would never know. The deafening crash it had made as it fell onto Njord's head still figured into some of her more troublesome dreams.

"Lyssette," Grandmother had cried, embracing her, "you have to get out of here. Take the money behind the portrait of Queen Frigga and run."

"But Grandfather," Lysse had worried. "What will become of him? Of you both?"

"He was already sick, Lysse," Grandmother had told her. "We didn't want you to worry, but he had very little time left. What happened to your mother... he never truly got over it. As for me, I can survive much more than some foreign God. I can survive anything, as long as I know you are safe. Now, run girl!"

She had run. Run as far and as fast as she could to escape the man who she could not bring herself to think of as her father. She had run all the way to the palace, all the way to these rooms. All the way to Loki. She would not run farther. She had let the Vanir God chase her from her family, she would not let him chase her from her love. 

Picturing Njord's face in her mind, handsome but for the coldness that lurked in his eyes, Lysse began the spell. She certainly had enough emotion coursing through her body. Fear of discovery, anger still at her Grandfather's fate, and love that she had found unexpectedly with a different God and refused to lose now. Channeling all of these emotions into one steady source of power, she spoke the words.

"Are you hear Sparrow? We need to have a serious conversation."

Loki's voice slammed into her brain just as the spell took form. His face, beautiful and loved, springing into her mind. A flash of rose filled the room as he opened the door.

"Lysse?" he called from the other room. "Sparrow, this is no time for tricks..." his voice faded an he shook his head as though to clear confusion as she walked into the living room.

"I am here, Loki," she said, standing in the doorway, smiling timidly at him.

"That is _Prince Loki_ ," he said sternly. "And I can see that you are here. Why are you not on your knees?"

"What?" she asked, shaken. Surely he was joking?

"It is a servant's place after all," he shrugged, walking past her. "Now, I have work to do. You will bring me my dinner."

Lysse stared at him, not knowing what to say or do. He had looked right through her. It was like...

Like he didn't even see her.

Like he didn't see  _her_.

The spell.

Lysse sank to her knees. What had she done?


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki is experiencing strange problems focusing, and Lysse is appalled at her mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Into every good story, some angst and drama must fall...

Loki walked into his study and clicked his tongue at the mess. His usually immaculate work space was a jumble of books, seemingly tossed about at random. It was completely unacceptable.

”Girl,” he shouted preemptively. “Get in here.”

”Yes, Loki - My Prince?” She asked, clumsily.

”What has become of my study? Don’t try to tell me I left it this way, I would never be so thoughtless.”

”No, My Prince,” the girl stammered. “I was looking for something.”

”In my belongings?” He asked raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, yes. You gave me permission...”

”Enough. Silence your chirping and put it to rights.”

Not waiting to see if she obeyed his commands - of course she would, that’s what servants did, wasn’t it? - he sat down at his desk and unscrolled the parchment in his hands. Thor’s betrothal contract? Why in all the realms had he taken that? Something about aiding his mother, he supposed. His mind was alarmingly vague for some reason. He must be distracted. No doubt the little servant scurrying about was the cause. What had possessed him to acquire a maid?

”Must you be so loud?” He asked in a pained voice.

”Forgive me, My Prince,” she mumbled, quieting her movements.

When she had tidied all of the books the girl came to stand by his chair. With a sigh Loki looked over at her. Her big eyes stared into his face in a completely presumptive fashion. It made his hands itch in some strange way, as though he wanted to take her across his knee. 

“Was there something you wanted girl?” He asked her, irritated by her presence.

”Loki, it’s me,” she whispered, eyes moist.

”Yes, I see that,” he replied acerbically. “And? What can I do for you. Make it quick, I have things to do.”

He could not recall exactly what he needed to do, but he knew that there had been some pressing need that spurred his steps here.

”Me, _Lysse_ ,” she said, as though her name mattered. “Your little Sparrow.”

”My what?” He asked with a bark of laughter. 

“Your... Sparrow?” She repeated.

”Should that mean something to me?” He asked, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Are you a singer, or have ambitions to be? If so you have come to the wrong person. I have very little interest for that sort of thing. Perhaps you should try Lord Fandrall. He seems to like your type, and is always willing to help a girl along... in return for certain favors.”

”Loki, you need to think,” she commanded him, unbelievably stomping her little foot. 

“I am trying to think,” he responded, voice becoming glacial, “but some insolent servant is yapping at me and disturbing my peace.”

”I did a spell,” she said in a rush. “A spell on you. I didn’t _mean_ to work it on you, of course, but you came home just as I was casting it, and my mind wandered and now you don’t see me!”

”Oh, a spell is it,” he sneered. “And what sort of servant can cast spells? Spells strong enough to effect a God? Your delusions of grandeur are large indeed, my girl.”

”Loki, look at me!” She insisted, grabbing his arm.

Unable to believe the liberty she was taking with his person, Loki stared down in disdain at the hand clutching him. How had the standards fallen so low that a serving maid would dare lay hands on a member of the Royal Family? The presumptuous little brat should be whipped!

"I am looking at you," he growled, standing and looming over her. 

"And what do you see?" she asked, entreaty in her voice.

"I see a servant, one who does not deserve the honor of attending a Prince. One barely more than a slave, taking liberties that should have her down on her knees begging for mercy. Begging that I not send her back to the kitchens with a report of her insolence."

The little baggage stared up at him mutely, eyes filled with tears. Was she simple, he wondered? Was the palace now employing the mentally challenged and sending them to clean the rooms of Princes? Looking at her, he could feel his heart rate accelerate. He didn't know why, but the sight of her crying seemed to be enraging him.

"I don't think you heard me, girl," he snarled, placing a hand on her shoulder and pressing her towards the floor. "I told you to _kneel_."

Eyes never leaving his face, the maid sank to her knees under the weight of his hand. He looked at her, trembling at his feet, and to his surprise felt a stirring in his loins. Her tongue shot out to wet her lips, arousing his anger and desire more. Why was she looking at him that way? 

"You have to believe me," she whispered. "If you don't believe I enchanted you, at least believe I am your servant. Do not send me away. I beg you, My Prince."

He stared at her, on the floor in front of him. His eyes didn't want to. They seemed to become glazed every time he tried to focus on her. Was she truly so unremarkable? But then why was his cock leaping in his trousers every time she spoke, turning hard as iron when she begged?

"I do not need a servant," he rasped, wanting to end this interview. "It was an impetuous decision on my part, and I find after all it does not suit me. I keep my own rooms clean, I have no use for a maid."

"Then let me serve you in some other way," she pleaded. "Just please, for now Sire, don't send me away."

"I have no other needs for you to see to," he snapped. 

As the girl tried to muffle a gasp, Loki forced himself against his will to look down at her again. He had taken a step or two forward without meaning to, and as he stilled he found himself directly in front of the little thing. His cock, hard and straining, seemed to be less than an inch from the girl's slightly parted lips. Not pausing to think, acting solely on impulse, he cupped the back of the girl's head with his large hand and pressed her forward until she was kissing the leather of his pants that covered his engorged bulge.

"Is this what you meant?" he asked, angry again, despite the fact that he had been the one to move her mouth there. "Is this how you want to  _serve me_? On your knees, tending to my cock?"

"If it is your wish, My Prince," she said, the words vibrating against his erection.

This was wrong! He knew it was wrong. His mind screamed at him to send the girl away. Get rid of her before she wasted any more of his valuable time. But the other part of him, the  _lower_ part, screamed something else. His cock wanted her with a fury that refused to be denied. Despite the pain beginning to gather behind his eyes, Loki snarled tearing his trousers open.

"Very well then," he snapped. "Serve me."

***

How had this happened? Well, of course, she knew  _how_ it had happened, but not how she had allowed it to occur. Loki, her Loki, seemed almost unable to look at her! And when he did attempt to focus his eyes on her, there was nothing in them but contempt and anger. None of the kindness, the warmth, the humor that normally lit them. He was a stranger. He was her Prince.

One thought held fast in her mind - she could not allow him to send her away. There must be a way to reverse this spell, but if there was she would not find it cleaning the halls or tending to some other Lord's breakfast. She needed to remain in his rooms and hope that he might leave her alone for long enough to find a reversal spell. She had done this, she would undo it.

Loki, however, was not making it easy for her. Not only did he not recognize her, he did not seem to want any sort of servant at all. What could she do, she thought as he pressed her to her knees? How could she convince him to let her stay, when her very presence seemed to be an irritant to him? He had told her not to touch that Hel cursed book. Why had she not listened to him?

At least one part of him recognizes me, she thought as she stared at the obvious erection in front her. Even now, as he denied his needs, he was drawing nearer to her. He did not stop until his cock was straining before her, seemingly desperate for her. If this were any other time, she would be reaching for it, freeing him from his trousers so that she might pleasure him. As he leaned towards her she gasped in want, realizing that despite everything she was wet and ready for him. 

"Is this what you meant?" he asked, as he grabbed her head and jammed it against the obscene bulge in his trousers. "Is this how you want to  _serve me_? On your knees, tending to my cock?"

"If it is your wish, My Prince," she spoke the words with difficulty, mouth still pressed to him.

She felt the shiver that ran through his body. Did she want this? Her body certainly did. Every nerve in her ached for him, not caring that he did not know who she was. He was still Loki, still her Prince and her God. The fact that her heart was breaking as he looked at her with indifference did not alter her lust for him.

"Very well then," he snapped, pulling back to open his pants. "Serve me."

She gave a little sob as she reached to free him. He was hard and red and just as he always was when she touched him, filling her hand with his heavy length. She leaned forward and licked the bead of precum off his head and thrilled to the jagged breath he drew. 

"Well," he rasped, voice strained, "get on with it."

A tear slid down her cheek at his impersonal tone, but she did as he said, bending forward to take him in her mouth. He tasted just the same, felt just as wonderfully velvet against her tongue. She sucked on him and took joy from the way he groaned and pressed farther into her. One of his hands came down to fist in her hair, pulling it as she moved back and forth on him. Holding her in place he magicked over the chair and sat down, spreading his legs wide to allow her room to work.

"That's it, little servant," he purred, tugging harder at her hair, "little slave. Serve your Master. Make me forget my worries with your wet, eager little mouth."

Against her will Lysse found that his words were arousing her further, and it created a calamity inside her. It was such a mixture of right and wrong all jumbled in her overstimulated brain. Said in his low, seductive voice such encouragement would normally be heaven to her ears. She loved the way he took charge of her, bent her to his will. But the tone was wrong. Gone was the hint of mischief, that caress that let her know that while he might term her a slave, might claim to be her master, she mattered too. This was for him alone, and he made that clear with how little he looked at her. Even when his hand came down to scoop her breast out from the top of her dress it seemed impersonal. He squeezed and teased and pinched, but only to have something pleasant in his hand, not to cause her pleasure.

"Oh Norns," he moaned, bruising her skin and pulling her hair, "oh, you are going to make me cum, slave. Do you want that? Want to taste my cum in you mouth? To feel it slide down your throat? I am going to fill you with it whether you do or not. You started this; you wanted to serve me. Well I want to coat your insides with my seed. That is how you will serve me best. Oh, but I have a desire to leave you drowning in it." 

She was choking now, able to do no more than attempt stay still while he ferociously pumped in and out of her mouth. His hand in her hair kept her from pulling away, and, perversely, so did her desire. It was all wrong, but she wanted it, wanted him, however she could have him. When he finally reached his climax he held her, nose pressed to his curls, as he shot his release deep into her throat. She swallowed it all, out of habit as much as necessity, and gasped for air as he pulled out of her.

"Well, I suppose you are good for something," he muttered, tucking himself back into his pants and leaning back in his chair. 

"Thank you, Sire," she choked out, throat raw.

"I am going to lie down now," he informed her, not moving. "I have a headache. Leave the room and DO NOT make any noise."

"As your Highness Wishes."

As he staggered to the sofa she gave one last, longing look to the book she had returned to the forbidden shelf. She certainly couldn't attempt to take it now. With a frustrated sigh she exited the study, closing the door as silently as possible behind her. 

Hating herself a little, Lysse retired to her little room off of his bedchambers. Lying down on her long neglected cot she reached up under her skirts. She was so wet, so aching and open, and so in despair. Closing her eyes, she tried to block out the past hour and think back to this morning. To the tub with Loki when he had been hers and the world was full of promise. Ignoring the tears sliding down her cheeks she tried to bring herself the relief her body was screaming for. It was no use. Hers were not the fingers she wanted deep inside her.

With a sob she surrendered to the failure and turned her mind instead to seeking out the sweet oblivion of sleep. At least he had allowed her to remain. He would have to leave his study, leave his rooms, at some point, and then she  _would_ find an antidote. She would not lose him this way. She could not. He was all she had and all she wanted. She loved him, and she would bring him back to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Argh! Would you have done it? It did keep her close to him, and he does still care about her somewhere in there - even bewitched he couldn't manage to keep his hands off her...
> 
> This chapter took a little longer to post because I got caught up in a silly romance novel - a novel where the hero was described as having an air of mischief, a silver tongue, a deep knowledge of Shakespeare, and an appearance that matches a certain British actor... methinks the author is secretly one of us!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Lysse have a hard night.

All of the color had been leached out of the world and everything seemed oddly flat. As Loki wandered through the garden maze, he could have sworn that his surroundings were phasing in and out around him. He was never going to find the exit. Never escape from this numbing blur that engulfed him.

Overhead he thought he heard a bird chirping, but it too seemed distant, like an echo from a life he had once lived but had turned his back on. The music made him sad, even if the sadness was washed down to a low hum of sorrow deep within him.

”It was the maid,” a voice said behind him. 

Loki spun around. He was sure there had been a long stretch of lane behind him only moments ago, but now a solid wall of hedge stood just a few feet away. A guard, dressed in formal palace armor that had rusted to almost useless condition lounged indolently, leaning against a spear. 

“I beg your pardon?” Loki asked, raising an eyebrow.

”The maid,” the guard repeated. “The one you took from us. She’s the reason you are so lost. You should have let us have her.”

Loki furrowed his brow and thought back, forcing his mind to focus. There had been a maid. He remembered her, though he could not picture her face. She had been chirping at him, driving him to distraction with her insistence that... what? He could not quite remember.

”She was not for you,” he said to the guard, knowing instinctively that it was true. “Not for you to hurt.”

”And will you hurt her any less, My Lord Prince?” The man asked, voice mocking him. “She would have been better off left to us.

It was not true. Loki knew that somehow. And yet, it was not untrue either. He had hurt her. Made her cry. His cock in her mouth. His voice calling her names, demanding she service him. He hadn’t meant to. He had meant to send her away, but his body would not let him. It had demanded he use her in the most intimate ways. Some of the things it had suggested he do to her had been so alarming he had feared for her safety at one point. Claiming her mouth had seemed a happy compromise. Now he was sorry he had stooped so low as to take her with so little care for her comfort. But only a little. It was hard to feel anything strongly here in this maze.

Turning his back on the indolent guard, Loki continued his quixotic quest for the way out. He thought he could hear a gentle roar in the distance. He might as well go that way as any other, he supposed.

As he struck out towards the sound, the bird called out again, swooping down sharply in front of his face in a movement all the more shocking for how it contrasted to the haze of the rest of the environment. It looked at Loki, squawked insistently, and flew in the direction Loki had been going, rounding a bend in the maze a few feet away.

He had to find his way out of here, he suddenly thought. There was something important... two somethings important that needed tending to. He wished he could remember what they were, but his mind skidded away whenever he neared them.

“This way, Brother!” a small, blond boy said, running past him and darting around the corner with a laugh. 

At first Loki thought the child was addressing him, but a moment later another child appeared. The second boy was just as eager, but there was also an air of caution about him. He paused and looked at Loki in suspicion before following the first one around the bend.

Loki had been heading that way anyway, he thought, watching the children as they stopped in the middle of a clearing. There was an old man and a lovely woman tied back to back to a stake in the middle of the circular area, dry kindling stacked around them. Despite his apparent peril, the old man’s one eye smiled at the cavorting children who danced around him.

”That’s it, my Sons,” he said encouragingly. “It is time. You are ready.”

”Ready for what, Father?” The darker haired, second boy asked, stopping his movement.

The old man’s face turned cold and he glared at the pale child.

”The fact that you ask questions shows why you are unworthy,” he barked, causing the boy’s face to flush.

"Questions are not inherently bad," the woman disagreed, shooting the devastated boy a reassuring smile.

“My true son knows what I mean, don’t you boy?” the one eyed man demanded.

The blond boy smiled wide and nodded, eyes bright.

”I do, Father,” he said eagerly. “I will end it all! I promise!”

”Good boy,” their father spoke with approval.

With a flick of his bound wrist, the man tossed the first boy a match, which he caught easily. 

“Go on, you know what to do.”

Loki watched in horror as the fair haired child struck the match on the sole of his shoe and bent to touch the flame to the outermost of the kindling. As the wood began to burn, he laughed again and jumped up onto the pyre with the two adults.

"No! It doesn't have to be this way!" the darker boy with the pale skin wailed.

"It will be alright, Son," the woman told him calmly.

"Come on, Brother," he entreated the other boy. "We should all go together!"

The younger boy shook his head as the flames leapt higher, beginning their gradual progression towards the center where the trio stood. A shrill noise, as if in warning, from the other side of the clearing caught Loki's attention, and he turned to see the small brown and gold bird standing there in front of a path leading out of the glade. Behind him, in the distance now but quickly approaching, was a vast wave of water. In moments it would it would be upon them. Without pausing to think, he extended his magic and froze the wave to a block of ice.

”Why did you do that?” the dark haired boy cried. 

"It was going to drown us," Loki explained the obvious.

"It would put out the fire!" the boy replied desperately. "If it fills the clearing, the fire will be doused and they will float away on the wood like a raft!"

"But you will not," Loki said mildly. "You and I and the bird will be lost beneath the ocean wave. The flames are too high for us to get through onto the wood."

It did occur to him, somewhere in the back of his mind, to wonder what an ocean wave was doing in a maze, and why he was certain the bird would not fly away. He had no answer. Things were as they were here. 

"But they'll burn!" the little boy insisted, pointing at his family.

"They chose to burn," Loki shrugged. "It is their own decision."

"No! I love them!"

"But what about yourself? Do you want to die? You will, you know, if you let the ocean come."

"I can save us all," the boy said, puffing out his chest. "My family, the bird, myself, even you."

"I don't know if anyone can do that," Loki said with distant sadness.

"I can. I am going to be king."

"Ah, well then," Loki smiled at the certainty in the boy's voice.

"Release the water!" the small child demanded.

Loki really didn't know why he had bothered to stop it. He was never going to get out of the maze anyway. He might as well die here with these strange people. At least they seemed to care about each other, and that was nice. He was sorry the bird was going to be destroyed too, though.

With a flick of his wrist he released the wave, and felt the surge if ice cold water rushing at him. At the same moment he could feel the tongues of flames licking at his back. Hot and cold compressed them between their competing grips, and he began to be consumed by both. The boy cried out in the effort to control the natural forces raging around them as Loki's world was engulfed by opposing forces beyond his mastery. In the distance the bird shrieked, a terrible, terrified sound.

***

Lysse was trying desperately to will herself to sleep. The dark, windowless room, combined with her worn to a nub nerves, should have been enough to accomplish this task. Certainly she was exhausted. But no matter how she tossed and turned on her small cot, blessed oblivion would not come. Her mind was just too busy. She had always had a touch of insomnia. Her active brain whirled in circles whenever she sought to calm down after a long day. It was only these past nights in Loki's bed that she had been able to drift off easily. The combination of the comfort of the mattress, the sated, exhausted state he left her body in, and the simple comfort of his body pressed to hers created a safe cocoon that shut out her troubles. She missed him with a physical ache.

A loud cry from the other room startled her to a sitting position before she knew what she was doing. Loki was still in his study. She had tiptoed out a while ago and peeked in the door, only to see him tossing and turning on the sofa. He seemed to be in the throes of a dream, but she hadn't dared wake him for fear he would send her away.

The scream repeated itself, carrying a wealth of pain in its voice, and she ran from her room towards the study. Not bothering to be quiet this time she pushed open the door and tripped inside. The sight that met her eyes was enough to cause her stomach to clench.

Loki lay on his side on the sofa, eyes wide open but completely unseeing. His face was frozen into a look of pain so acute that Lysse could feel the pain he must be in. His body trembled, and he thrashed back and forth in his sleep, sweat pouring down his face.

Frantic, she scurried across the room and leaned down to shake him awake. As soon as her hands touched him, Lysse drew back in horror. Loki's skin was cold as ice and covered in a blue tinge. Steeling herself against it, she leaned down again and shook him hard, calling his name and pleading with him to wake up. When that didn't work she did the only thing she could think of slapped him hard across the face. This succeeded in leaving a red mark, but other than that made not a lick of difference to her dearest Prince.

"I did this," she gasped, panic setting in. "Oh, dear Gods, my poor love, I did this to you! I will fix it. I promise, Loki. I will save you. Stay with me, my love. I will go and get help, but you must stay and fight!"

Kissing his frigid brow, she spun around and tore off out of the tower and down the stairs. Possibly the hardest thing she had ever done in her life was making herself be careful on the winding staircase. Only by reminding herself that if she fell and killed herself no one would know that Loki was in danger did she keep from taking the steps three at a time. When she finally reached the bottom, she ran flat out down the halls, not caring who stared or yelled in passing at her.

When she finally arrived at the engraved oak door she was heaving breaths from a painful chest. She knocked and bent over, willing her breathing to return to normal enough to be able to speak.

"Come in," a voice called.

Lysse opened the door and burst into the Queen Mother's study. She had been here once or twice before, responding to Queen Frigga's request for her services, but only upon invitation. Now, as she entered gasping for air the AllMother looked up at her in alarm.

"Lysse," Frigga said, standing and coming around the desk. "Dear child what is it? What has happened?"

"It is Loki," Lysse sputtered out, and burst into sobs.

"Loki?" Frigga's eyes filled with motherly concern. "What has happened. Please, Lysse you must calm down and tell me."

"He is asleep, and I cannot wake him. His skin is blue, and he is so very cold, but he sweats as if a fever burns him up. And the cries he is making... Please, please, your majesty! You must save him!"

"The healers," Frigga began.

"No, it is not a normal illness," Lysse sobbed. "I... I did a spell."

"A spell? You?" Frigga looked confused, but not as surprised as she might have been.

"It was not meant for him. I would never do that. It went wrong at the last minute. He could not see me, and now his eyes stare and see nothing."

"Lysse, look at me. What was the spell?"

"Unseen by the Eyes of Gods," she managed to choke out.

Frigga shut her eyes for a moment and spoke something under her breath.

"Once you cast this spell," she said, once her initial moment had passed, "did you remain in his presence? Did you try to force him to see you?"

"Yes," Lysse admitted despairingly.

"And he did not?"

"No. He talked to me, but not in his own voice. It was as if we were strangers."

"There is not a moment to loose," Frigga told her, standing up straighter. "Here, take my wrist. Close your eyes, it will help with the vertigo."

Before Lysse had a chance to obey the world rocked and they were upstairs in Loki's living room. She tottered a bit, but Frigga steadied her with a strong hand and looked around the empty room.

"Where is he?"

"In the study, on the couch," Lysse whispered.

"This is bad," Frigga said and she strode into the room. "I should not have been able to apperate directly into his rooms. The fact that I could means his energy is drained to the point where he is no longer warding them."

"I am so sorry," Lysse said in anguish.

"No time for that now. The spell you used. Fetch it for me."

Lysse ran to the shelf and brought the book over to where Loki's mother sat stroking her son's brow. 

"He looks so cold," Lysse worried.

"That is nothing," Frigga brushed it off. "Loki was made to withstand the coldest temperatures imaginable. It is the spell that has me worried. He is trying to fight his way out of it on his own. To find his way back to you. We must give him a beacon, a path to follow."

As she flipped through the book, Frigga finally came upon the page she was looing for and turned her kind eyes up to Lysse.

"Is there something he calls you?" she asked. "A pet name? Kitten? Anything?"

"He calls me his Sparrow," Lysse admitted, face flushing.

"Perfect," Frigga nodded. "I want you to close your eyes. Close your eyes and imagine yourself turning into a sparrow."

"I don't know exactly what one looks like," Lysse worried.

"It doesn't matter. Just picture what it looks like to you. A small bird, brown and gold. Do you see it? Place yourself inside it. Now, I need you to reach forward and touch his brow with your hand. It is cold, I know, but you must endure it I'm afraid."

"It is not too cold," she murmured. "It could not be."

"Good. Now, fly the bird into his mind. You will see lots of jumbled images. Do you?"

Lysse concentrated as she never had before. She could feel his mind, right there before her. Glimpses of it came through to her. A hedge maze. A soldier in rusty armor. A feeling of regret. It was not working. She had to connect. She must. Acting on impulse, Lysse leaned forward and pressed her lips to his open mouth, her forehead making contact with his as she did.

She was in. Flying through the maze in which Loki's mind wandered. Franticly she dove down in front of him to get his attention. When he looked at her, she called out to him but all the came from her was bird song. Frustrated, she turned and flew towards Frigga's voice, willing him to follow her.

When she rounded the corner into the clearing and saw Frigga and Odin tied to the stake she drew back in alarm. Obviously young versions of Thor and Loki didn't seem too concerned though. She could not understand what they said, her bird ears did not register human language. Loki, too was just noise to her as he argued with his young self. The fire, though, and the frozen oncoming flood were clear enough. No wonder he burned and froze! He was trapped between the two. Hopping up and down to get his attention, she gave the loudest call she could manage. He turned to look at her, a world of sorrow in his eyes. He was resigned, she realized. Resigned to perish here.

No. It would not happen. As he released the flood waters and braced himself against the onrushing tide, she swooped over to where he stood. screeching again in anguish as she felt the flames singe her feathers, she pecked him square in the eyes. He  _would_ see her! 

"Lysse!" she heard Frigga call in the distance. "Get out of there now, or you are both lost!"

"Come with me, my love," she willed him, pulling her consciousness back, but keeping her wings wrapped around his upraised wrist. "Come  back to me."

Crying out in shrill bird song, she fell back into her own body. Sweat covered her from head to toe, and she smelled the singe of burnt hair. She hurt everywhere. But then the sweetest thing in the world, in the universe happened. The lips pressed against her began to move. Just a little, but the light pressure ghosting over her own was as powerful to her as an earthquake.

"Sparrow," he breathed into his mouth. "I see you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is a bit of a departure for me. I wanted to try something new. Hope you like it! Smut returning next time!!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki has been saved from the spell, but now our heroes must face the truth.

Loki was going to be alright. No matter what happened now, what became of her, Loki was alive and was himself again. Lysse would be forever grateful for that miracle. If her actions had caused him permanent harm, she did not think she would be able to go on.

She sat now on the floor in front of the sofa on which Loki lay, his hand clasped in between both of hers. He was clammy, and obviously exhausted. Dark smudges smeared under his eyes and his skin, while no longer tinged with blue, was paler than ever. 

Frigga had pulled the armchair over and sat looking at the two of them, her brow furrowed. 

“So,” she said raising an eyebrow, “you have a talent for magic?”

“It appears so, Your Majesty,” Lysse replied, staring down at her hand linked to Loki’s.

”I assume this is a recent discovery?”

”Yes, my Queen. Loki has been tutoring me.”

”I see,” Frigga eyed Loki speakingly. “I assume this explains your visit this afternoon?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Loki answered blandly, voice barely more than an exhausted breath.

”Don’t try to lie to me, Loki. I know you too well,” she let out a long sigh as Lysse tried to discern what they were talking about. “You know this situation cannot last, son. The dignitaries begin arriving tomorrow, The Vaneheim contingent among them.”

”My Lady, please...” Lysse began, but Frigga simply held up a hand. 

“It is late, and we are all tired. We will not speak of it tonight. I will expect both of you in my study tomorrow morning. We will sort things out then.”

Frigga stood up and kissed her son on his brow, gently stroking his hair. He smiled wanly at her and leaned briefly into her hand before she nodded and walked to the door. Scampering to her feet, Lysse followed her out into the living room. 

“I can’t begin to thank you, Your Majesty,” she said earnestly, curtsying. 

“You did the hard work,” Frigga shrugged. “I just guided you.”

”Please,” she asked, needing to ask the question yet dreading the answer, “what would have happened? If we had not not pulled him out?”

”Loki’s mind was fighting against the glamour you cast. A part of him refused to accept that you did not exist. I believe it triggered a latent fear in him, a fear of abandonment he has always struggled with. If we had not pulled him out, he would have been lost in the subconscious dreamscape, his mind a prisoner of his fears.”

“It was so dark,” Lysse shivered. “So sad and lonely.”

”He is a lonely man,” his mother said sadly. “Though rather less so since meeting you. I desperately wish, my dear, that situations were other than what they are. But that is a talk for tomorrow. For tonight, take care of him. He should not be alone right now.”

As it was all she wished to do in the world, Lysse gladly nodded acceptance of Frigga’s command. Closing the door behind the queen, she drew a deep breath and walked back into the study.

Loki had pulled himself up more on the sofa, looking more fully awake than he had when the women left. He was so stunningly beautiful, even as exhausted as he was. The thought that she was the cause of his hurt, of his suffering, was enough to push her towards despair. She vowed in that moment to make it up to him however she could.

”I believe you have some explaining to do, my little Sparrow, he said in a low voice.

Lysse dipped her head in shame as she crossed the room. Reaching up, Loki took her by the wrist and pulled her down beside her, holding her against his body. He still felt cold to her, though his eyes had lost the glassy look.

"I am so terribly sorry, My Lord Prince," she said, biting her lip. "I did not mean to cast a spell on you."

"Wait... you cast a spell on me?" Loki turned her head to face him and stared hard into her eyes.

"Ye-es," she admitted. "That was how you ended up trapped in your dream. You don't remember my telling you?"

"I don't remember much," he confessed. "From the time I returned to the tower to the time I woke up to see you and mother peering down at me is mostly a blur. That was your doing? How?"

"The book of spells," she said quietly, hating herself. "The one on your book shelf..."

"The shelf I warned you not to touch?" he asked in a hard voice, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," she whispered. "I was desperate, my lord. I needed to find a way..."

"A way to what? What was the spell, Sparrow?"

"It was called  _invisible to the eyes of a god_. I didn't mean it for you, I swear, My Prince! But then you arrived just when I was speaking the words, and you... well, you instantly burst into my mind."

"I see," his voice was as cold as his skin, his eyes narrowed. Lysse dearly wanted the floor to open and pull her in so that she could escape his disappointment.

"I am more sorry than I can ever say, Loki," she said simply, staring at her hands. "If you had stayed lost... I could never bear it. Thank the Norns your mother knew what to do. Without her, I would not have known how to reach you."

"Let us set aside, for the moment, the fact that you deliberately disobeyed the one restriction I set on you," he began, voice stern if still week, "and focus instead on the spell that you chose to cast. Who, may I ask, was the God that you wished to hide from?"

Lysse stared up at him, eyes stricken, and held her tongue.

"Even now," Loki sighed, a look of disappointment flashing across his face, "you can not bring yourself to confide in me. Tell me, Sparrow, Lysse, am I so untrustworthy as all that?"

"No, Loki," she answered, eyes pleading with him. "It is not that. I would tell you if I told anyone. It's just..."

"Just what, Sparrow?"

"If I say it, it will be true," she finally wailed, faced with the fact she had been avoiding.

"Very well, I will say it," Loki countered. "You are Lysette, Daughter of Njord, Lord of the Vanir and God of the Sea."

"I am Lysse," she said, shaking her head. "I am your Sparrow! My Lord Prince, that is all I want to be! Please, please let me stay that."

"Oh, Sparrow," he sighed, pulling her against his chest, "how I wish I could."

***

He wanted to be angry at her. She had lied to him, hidden the truth of her birth. The possible ramifications of that truth were far reaching, ranging from the unthinkable fact that she was all but promised in marriage to Thor, to the frustrating reality that if she just admitted her parentage they could have saved themselves all of the angst of being together. If the daughter of the Vanir God was good enough to be the wife of the AllFather of Asgard, she was certainly good enough to be the beloved of the younger Prince! Loki had been holding himself back, or trying to at least, from believing they had a real future together, when all the while it had been within their grasp. Had she not realized that, or had she simply wanted a way out? To keep an escape route for when she tired of him?

All of that failed to even take into account what would happen if Njord discovered her, hiding in Loki's service. The political fallout from that would be monstrous. If Njord took it into his head that Asgard was hiding her from him, it could even be the beginning of a war. From what he knew of the wily old Vanir God, he would love nothing more than to embarrass Odin and his family, charging them with kidnapping his daughter. 

Frigga knew this, of course. It was why she had commanded them to her chambers tomorrow. She would not allow things to continue as they were. This would be his last night with Lysse in his bed, at least as things had been. This time tomorrow she would be ensconced in a suite of her own, servants attending her, and Loki would be back to occupying his tower alone like a lonely ghost.

Add to all of this that it had been her, his trusted, gentle girl, who had thrown him into that hellscape of a of dream! Of course she had not meant to do so. It was clear that she had intended the spell for Njord. But still. He had one rule. Just the one! And she had broken it.

"Did it never occur to you, my sweet," he asked, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice, "to ask me for help? Rather than break the very understandable rule I set for you? I could have protected you. I would have protected you from anything."

"I didn't want you to know," she said, sounding miserable. "I don't want to be Njord's daughter! I didn't even know he had sired me until he barged into my home a year ago and destroyed my life. He is responsible for the deaths of my Mother and my Grandfather! She died birthing me after he raped her! And now I am supposed to warmly embrace him as a father?"

"I agree with you, he is a despicable character," Loki said with a nod. 

"Please, My Prince," Lysse turned to him, eyes wide and pleading, "Please, Loki. Do not let him take me. Do not make me leave you. I promise, I will obey your rules from now on. All I want is to stay here with you."

"I will not let him touch you, Sparrow," Loki heard himself saying, his arms hugging her tightly. "I don't know how, but I will keep you safe. No one is taking you away from me. No one."

Lysse gave a gasp of a cry and threw herself at him, arms flying around his neck. As he lay beneath her, her lips met his, tongue desperately lapping against his to demand entrance. Unable to resist such a sweet offer, Loki opened his mouth and allowed her to take the lead as she tasted him. Tired as he was, he still felt his cock begin to rise as she moved upon him, straddling his waist and pressing into his body.

When she pulled away from his lips at last, Loki looked at Lysse with hot, hooded eyes. She smiled shyly back at him and began planting little kisses all down one side of his face and neck and up the other. Loki groaned at the seductively sweet caresses her tongue made over his skin. He bucked his hips up into her, but allowed her to grind down on him and take control. 

"My love," she asked, causing his heart to skip as she used the words, "do you think you are strong enough?"

"When it comes to having you, Sparrow, I will strong enough on my death bed."

With a wave of his hand they were both naked. Her skin felt so warm and soft against him. She reached down with her small hand and took his cock in her grip. He was hard to begin with, but two stroke from her and he was painfully so. Lifting herself up, she centered her core over him, rocking back and forth to coat his cock head in her juices before slowly lowering herself down onto his throbbing length. As her tight, wet walls embraced him, Loki's head fell backwards on his neck, and he let out a gasp of contentment. He had never had anyone who fit him so well, as if her cunt had been custom made to take his cock.

Her back arched, Lysse began riding him, slowly at first but with an ever increasing urgency. Loki raised his hands to fondle the breasts that jutted out towards him, loving how they filled his hands so perfectly. This woman, this marvelous, beautiful woman, had been designed just for him. There was no other possible explanation. Even the noises she made, ever cry and moan that escaped her lips as she impaled herself on him, seemed to drive him mad with lust.

"Oh, my perfect pet," he groaned as she took him even deeper, breathing in gasps as he hit that spot within her. "You belong with me. You belong to me. I will never let anyone else have you. You are mine, and I will do whatever I must to keep you."

"Yes," she panted, close to her breaking point. "Yes, my Prince. I am yours alone. My Loki."

Leaning forward, he latched onto the skin of her neck, just where it met her shoulder, and sucked long and hard. Lysse let out a prolonged cry and bore down on him desperately, her entire body shuddering and clenching around him. The increased pressure sent him over the edge, and Loki thrust deep within her, filling her with his cum as she moaned his name.

When he could martial his thoughts again, Loki rose shakily to his feet, pulling her with him. Wordlessly, he held her to him, kissing the top of her head. She was his. He could be angry - he  _was angry_ with her, but that would keep. Frigga was right. It was late and they were tired. They would deal with reality tomorrow.

"Come, love," he said, leading her by the hand. "Let's go to our bed. We have a long day awaiting us."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks all for the kind words about the dream chapter. It was fun to write! I love hearing from all of you, and really hope you are enjoying the story! :)


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki takes the time to discipline his sparrow.

He was not a fan of mornings at the best of times, so when a loud pounding on his tower door woke Loki early the following day, he was not amused. Stubbornly he tried his best to ignore the banging, concentrating instead on the soft, warm woman wrapped in his arms, but it seemed whoever was daring to disturb his much needed rest was not to be deterred.

With an exasperated growl, Loki threw himself from the bed and stomped into the living room, muttering obscenities as he went. Throwing open the tower door, he glared at the cowering functionary waiting on the other side.

”What?” He snarled, taking pleasure in how the young man flinched and paled at his tone.

”Pr-prince Loki,” The man stuttered, eyes darting to and away from Loki’s naked form to stare at the relative safety of the floor.

"Yes?" he demanded, hands on his hips and stance wide, giving no quarter to the man's discomfort.

”Your... your Mother.... The Queen?”

”Yes, I know who my Mother is,” he snapped at the unfortunate messenger.

”She, she asked me to... to make sure you were awake,” The man stammered, swallowing a lump in his throat, “and to remind you that you and Lady Lysse are to present yourself in her study as soon as you are able. Good morning, My Lady.”

Loki looked behind him where Lysse, wrapped in the bed sheet, had wandered bleary eyed into the room.

”Eyes where they belong, boy,” Loki ordered, causing the page to jerk his head back down to stare at his shoes. "You may tell the Queen that we will attend her at a decent hour, and that the next time she sends an underling to wake me, I will take great delight in returning him asleep. Permanently.”

”Yes, My Prince. Thank you my Prince,” The man replied in terror as Loki slammed the door in his face.

”Loki,” Lysse chided, voice full of recrimination. “That poor man! Was it really necessary to terrorize him so?”

”It seemed so to me,” he shrugged, crossing to embrace her. “Besides, it is Mother's fault. She knows what I am like when first woken. My guess is that man was selected as some sort of punishment. She would be disappointed if I didn’t threaten him at least a little. Now, shall we go back to bed?”

”But your Mother?” Lysse squeaked as he picked her up in his arms and carried her back to the bedroom, dropping her unceremoniously onto the mattress.

”Will wait,” he answered implacably. “I am much too old to jump and come running the moment she snaps her fingers. There are appearances to be maintained, after all.”

Smiling threateningly, he began unwrapping the sheet from around her form. He was determined to delay the inevitable as long as possible. The use of the honorific before Lysse’s name had not escaped him. As soon as they left these rooms today she would no longer be his little Sparrow, or at least no longer only that. She would be a Lady of rank. But for now...

”Speaking of punishment... you, my little pet,” he told her, running his hands lazily over her body, “have been a very naughty girl.”

”Loki...” she breathed, trepidation in her voice.

”Shall we take a moment to catalog your sins?” He asked, pulling her so that she was sprawled, undignified across his lap. 

“Loki, what are you doing!” She squirmed.

”One,” he said, holding her firm and ignoring her question, “you did not tell me the truth about why you were posing as a servant.”

His hand swung down to smack her upturned ass with a satisfying smack. He paused momentarily, looking down at her where she lay huffing in indignation.

”What do you say, Sparrow?” He asked, voice stern. 

Lysse stared up at him, eyes mutinous, and he grinned and spanked her three more times in quick succession. 

“You were saying?” He demanded.

“Thank you, Master!” She gasped out, wiggling on his lap.

”That’s my good girl,” he purred, rubbing her red bum. “You see, you can behave when you try. Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Two, you lied to me about your parentage.”

”Thank you Master,” she said quickly, almost before his next spank landed.

”Three,” he went on, savoring the way her naked body was rubbing against his phenomenally hard cock, “you let me believe we couldn’t be together, when all this time you were a perfectly respectable paramour for one of my station.”

”But Loki!” She protested as he struck her again. “Those are all the same thing! You are just finding different ways to word my sin so that you can spank me more!”

”What was that, love?” He asked, swatting her again. “I didn’t hear you.”

He spanked her once more for good measure.

”Thank you, Master!” She all but shrieked. 

“You’re welcome, sweet Sparrow,” he purred, running his fingers between her legs and savoring the slick he found there. “It is good to see you so appreciative.”

Lysse moaned in response as he allowed her up. She sat with a wince on the edge of the bed, her face as red as her bottom. Loki tilted her chin so that she was forced to look into his eyes and assumed a serious expression.

“It is not going to be easy to extract you from this mess, love,” he told her. “You have made quite a meal of it.”

”I am sorry, my Prince,” she sighed, a tear forming in the corner of one eye.

Loki was stricken by the sight. Tears from their playing were one thing. He enjoyed those as he knew she did as well. But Lysse looked so despondent, so crushed by the weight of her predicament, that Loki’s heart pained to see it. 

“Easy, Sparrow,” he soothed, stroking her face gently. “It will be difficult, not impossible. Have a little faith.”

”You really think you can save me?” She asked, hope returning to her.

”Of course,” he responded instantly, instilling his voice with more certainty than he felt. “You are mine, Sparrow. Do you truly think I will let anyone take you from me? I am a Prince and a God.”

Lysse looked up at him with so much trust shining from her watery eyes that Loki could scarce believe such an expression was meant for him. He would do it, he vowed to himself. He would pull her out of the pit opening before her one way or another. 

***

As Loki’s mouth descended to take her lips, Lysse allowed herself to relax slightly for the first time since the knock had woken them. He would save her, she was sure of it. If anyone was able to extricate her from this web it would have to be her unspeakably clever God of Mischief. 

Loki’s kiss had started out slow and gentle, but it did not remain so for long. The spanking he had meted out to her had aroused them both far too much for that. In very short order she was on her back, legs thrown over his shoulders while he thrust deep inside her with bruising strength. He had raised her hands above her head and alarmingly she found that some invisible force was holding them tight to the bed.

”Stay still, Sparrow,” he growled, biting her ear lobe. “You will lie there and take your punishment like a good girl.”

”Punishment?” She asked, moaning again as his cock hit her pleasure spot repeatedly inside her.

”Mmhmm,” he hummed, sucking on her neck hard enough to leave a large bruise.

”I will be all black and blue,” she gasped, struggling to arch closer to him and increase the friction on her clit.

”That is the point,” he told her, satisfaction in his voice. “I mean to mark you Sparrow, inside and out, so that everyone knows who you belong to.”

”Loki,” she cried out, wishing she could move.

”Did you want something, love?” He asked, marking the top of one breast.

”I am _so close_ ,” she whined. “Please, please, I want to cum.”

”Oh, I think not,” he chuckled darkly.

”What?” Her voice skittered up as her eyes snapped open to look at his evilly smiling face. He couldn’t be serious!

”I told you, this is punishment,” he reminded her with a smirk.

”But you already punished me,” she gasped, crying out at the tension he was relentlessly building in her. It was as though he knew exactly how to I move his body, how to play her to keep her just on the edge of bliss.

”For lying, yes. Did you really think so grave a sin as deliberately disobeying my direct order would be so easily, so _pleasurably_ dealt with as that? We both could feel how much you enjoyed your spanking. No, I have much more severe plans for you, love. _Now hush_.”

To her dismay and perverse delight, Lysse discovered that an invisible fabric had been pulled across her mouth, rendering her mute. Loki gave her a wolffish grin and then began pounding into her mercilessly, grunting our obscenities as he filled her over and over, driving her mad with lust. Just when she began to question how much more she could physically take, Loki called out her name in a primal cry and filled her to overflowing with his cum.

As he slowly pulled out of her trembling and unfulfilled body, Loki lowered her legs, but left her upper body pinned to the mattress. Moving down a bit, he spread her open and watched in fascination as a slow stream of sticky white seeped out of her.

"That will do," he smirked, wiping his cock off on the inside of her leg.

"What do you mean?" Lysse asked, pleased to find that she could speak again.

"Just as I told you, inside and out," he answered, voice unbearably smug. "Now no one will be to mistake that you are mine."

"But... but I have to bathe!" she protested, gaping like a fish.

"Say no more," he replied grandly, waving his hand in an overly dramatic gesture.

Suddenly released from her bonds, Lysse found herself fully dressed in her uniform and squeaky clean from head to toe. Excepting, of course, the wet trail spreading down her inner thighs.

"I even did your hair," he told her, looking at her expectantly as though awaiting thanks.

"You can't really be serious!" she sputtered.

"Oh, but I am. Look at yourself, Sparrow," he cooed, pulling her up off the bed and moving her over to stand before the mirror.

Lysse stared in horrified fascination at her reflection. Her neck and what was visible of her cleavage was covered with love bites. Her hair was upswept in a coiffure that looked remarkably regal. The dress that she had thought was her uniform was in fact a embellished with small emeralds for the eyes of the snake emblazoned on her breast. The gold thread forming the snake also looked suspiciously like genuine gold.

"Now this," he spoke in her ear, reaching around her from behind to grope her, "is what a Princess should be. Beautiful, regal, but covered in the marks and scent of her Prince. They will know, all of them, that you have been claimed by me."

" _Loki_ ," her voice sounded like a wanton plea to her own ears as she pressed back against him.

"None of that!" he scolded, moving away from her. "You have been a very bad girl, and you must bear the cost of that. No orgasms for you until you have properly atoned for your transgressions. And Sparrow, if I even suspect that you have pleasured yourself, you will wish for so light a sentence."

"How long?" she hated her desperation, but couldn't seem to help herself.

"We'll have to see," he shrugged. "Half the punishment is in the uncertainty. Perhaps you can try to sway me... I believe I would enjoy that."

Lysse laughed almost hysterically. He was insane, and he was going to drive her crazy as well, she could see it. Still, she would not wish for any other fate. 

"We should go," he said at last with a sigh, cleaning and clothing himself. "Mother will expect me to delay on principle, but if we dawdle too much she will be upset."

Lysse paled as he began to pull her towards the door. 

"Chin up, Sparrow," he told her as he escorted her out. "You are mine, and I protect what belongs to me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the comments!
> 
> Sorry this chapter took a bit longer than usual - my office is relocating for the summer, so work has been a bear! Anyway, hope you enjoyed some smut before the plot kicks into high gear next chapter!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lysse and Loki deal with the reality of who she really is and what that will mean for them.

Lysse felt so uncomfortable as they made their way down to Frigga’s study. She was certain that every pair of eyes they passed turned to stare at them, or more to the point, at her. It was bad enough that she was dressed in clothing that signified nobility, if not flat out royalty. It was worse that as they progressed she could feel a slick, sticky trail making its way down her inner thighs, while more sloshed inside of her just waiting to dribble out. She was sure that everyone must be able to smell the sex on her. But what was worst of all was that Loki, Prince of Asgard and God of Mischief, insisted on holding her hand!

He had reached over and take it as they came to the bottom of the tower stairs, and the grip he held on it admitted no hope of her pulling away from him. Every few minutes he would raise her captured appendage to his lips and kiss it, the back, the wrist, the palm, caressing her with his tongue each time, eyes bright as he stared down the place functionaries. 

“What are you doing?” She ground out between clenched teeth as they passed a wizened old councilor, eyes bulging out of his head after Loki had purposefully pulled one of her fingers into his mouth and sucked hard on it before releasing it with a pop. 

“I would think that would be obvious, Sparrow,” he purred, tracing the designs he had left on her skin with his free hand. “I am staking my claim to you. I want it very clear to everyone that you are utterly off limits, having already been spoken for by a prince of the realm.”

”Doesn't that sound a bit like... well..." Lysse struggled for the words. 

"Yes?" Loki raised an eyebrow at her.

"Well, like I am a horse you are buying at market?" she finally blurted out, blushing.

"Hm... I suppose it could come off that way," Loki shrugged, not looking overly concerned about it. "But then come to think of it, love, _I do_ _thoroughly enjoy_ _riding you_."

His smug smile as he purred the words into her ear made Lysse shudder with want. It really was not fair the effect he had on her, particularly when she was already so worked up and unfulfilled. As they passed another group of courtiers, all of whom Loki smiled deliberately at while somehow also managing to look at her like she was a meal he was barely keeping himself from devouring, Lysse realized that she did not recognize the route they were taking.

"Loki," she asked, accusatorily, "why are you taking me this way? Your mother's rooms are just around the corner from the bottom of your tower."

"I was wondering when you would notice," he grinned. "Let's just say we are taking the scenic route."

"As what is so scenic about the palace halls?" she demanded tartly. 

A part of her appreciated the delay, but another, larger part wanted to get it all over with. She was about to become someone else, she might as well face that head on. The time for hiding was clearly past, and it was no one's fault but her own.

"Well, right now, you are, Sparrow," he said mischievously. "I am making sure that as many people as possible see the lovely damsel, newly arrived to court, gracing me with her hand and her smiles. Perhaps even her lips, if I am so bold as to taste them," he added, leaning down to place a swift, chaste kiss to her upturned mouth.

"But everyone has seen me already," she argued. "I've been here for months!"

"No, a serving girl named Lysse, who it's true bore a certain passing resemblance to you, was here for months. I blush to say she was even my dalliance for a time. I suppose I must have a type, do you think, Sparrow? You, however, Lyssette, Daughter of Njord, Princess in all but name, have just arrived at the palace. Trust me when I say that the number of people who may recognize you from your old life might be counted on one hand. Perhaps one or two of the more discerning lordlings, such as my brother and his lackeys, may realize that you are the same girl; they did stare quite longingly at you after all. The rest will happily buy into the fiction that we are presently selling them. Ah here we are!"

Coming to a stop before a door that Lysse belated realized belonged to his Mother's office, Loki knocked twice and pushed the door open, sauntering in with Lysse still held in a firm grip.

"Loki," Frigga's voice rang with exasperation, "what have you two been doing?"

Lysse felt her face flush scarlet, suddenly afraid that the Queen was referring to their early morning activities which had left her legs in such a state. Surly Queen Frigga couldn't be aware that her son's only partially dry emissions were even now painting Lysse's thighs? She wanted the floor to open and swallow her whole.

"Relax, Sparrow," Loki winked at her, "I don't think she means _that_. I am right, am I not mother, that you are not referring to our little morning romp?"

"Sit down, Loki," Frigga ground out. "And you too, Lysse," she added more kindly. "We have some things to discuss."

Loki helped Lysse to sit, not that she needed it, but he seemed determined to act the gallant today. He himself perched on the arm of her chair instead of claiming one for himself. His arm snaked possessively around her and drew her close to his body, almost defiantly.

"You have made quite the scene, my son," Frigga sighed looking at them. 

"What do you mean?" Lysse asked in a panicked voice.

"I mean that in the past quarter of an hour, no less than five people have run to my door bearing tidings of my impossible son and the young noble woman he is currently... well, let's just say that the one elderly man who termed it 'courting' was the most courteous, and he blushed as red as Lysse when he told me."

"Idle gossipers," Loki shrugged, smiling openly.

"Don't be deliberately obtuse, Loki," Frigga almost snapped.

"I am not being deliberate about it, My Queen," Lysse put in, "but I am apparently obtuse about this matter..."

"No, Lysse," Frigga's voice softened as she turned to the girl. "You were not raised at court amid the vipers and the tale carriers. You would not be expected to know how such environments operate. My son, however, is fully aware of the dynamics of his home. He chose to display you to as many people as he could, dressed in his colors, fingers entwined, and bearing... shall we say... evidence of more impassioned embraces?"

Frigga nodded, as Lysse's free hand flew to her neck and chest, where she had forgotten that Loki had left a quilt work of bruises and love bites.

"Hints had been casually dropped last night and this morning by my underlings that the beautiful young daughter of Njord had just arrived at our court," the Queen went on. "It was meant to soften the surprise when we present you and ensure that the narrative we create for you will be the one the general public believe. Now the very first thing that anyone will associate with you is that you are being very ardently and to all appearances successfully pursued by Loki. He has linked your names together with a knot that will not untangle easily, if at all."

"You did that intentionally?" Lysse asked, looking wide eyed at Loki.

"I told you I was staking my claim, Sparrow," Loki said with aplomb. "You belong to me. Now the entire court knows it."

"As will her father when he arrives in a matter of hours," Frigga snapped at her son before taking a deep breath to calm herself.

"Good," Loki replied, eyes flashing. "I want him to know that she is under my protection. I care not what his intentions may be with her, I will not allow him to harm her further."

Lysse thought her heart was going to burst with love as her dark Prince spoke so passionately in her defense. If his mother was not present, she would have thrown herself at him then and there. As it was, she could feel her own arousal swelling and beginning to join his leavings in causing a mess between her legs. How had she ever gotten so lucky as to engender such feelings in him? 

"I know you care for the girl, Loki," Frigga said gently. "I will do everything in my power to see that she is safe. There is no need for you to make a spectacle of the two of you before all of Asgard."

"Have you not been telling me forever that it was time I found a suitable mate?" he asked, causing Lysse's breath to catch. "Well, who could be more suitable than the daughter of one of Asgard's greatest allies?"

"You know that he has offered her to Thor."

"Excuse me, My Queen" Lysse spoke, "but I have no desire to marry Prince Thor. Though I am, of course, most appreciative of the honor bestowed on me. I want only to be with Prince Loki."

Loki puffed out his chest and preened, looking almost comically pleased with himself. If anything, Frigga looked even more pained and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I know, dear," she sighed, looking at Lysse with kindness. "But we don't always get what we want. Particularly when the fate of all Nine Realms stand in the balance. But as I said, I will do my best."

Standing up, Frigga crossed around her desk and raised Lysse, drawing her away from Loki. He reluctantly released her hand, but his eyes still lingered hot and possessive on her in ways that did shocking things to her insides.

"From this moment on, Lysse the maid is no more," Frigga told her, echoing Loki's earlier sentiments. "Lyssette, Daughter of Njord, Heiress of the Vanir, graces us with her company. I will personally see to her comfort and lodging. A room has been prepared for you in the connecting hall. You will be supplied with all you need, including a maid to attend to you and clothing as befits your station."

"She already has a wardrobe waitning in the room you have assigned her," Loki interrupted with a cocky smile.

"How?" Lysse asked him, looking at him with big eyes.

"My son is ever resourceful," Frigga said dryly.

"Let me have my secrets, darling," he grinned. "Just accept my humble gift to you."

"I will look over the dresses, Loki," Frigga warned him. "Anything that I deem inappropriate will be culled from them."

"I would never think to dress my Lady in anything other than the height of style."

"And would that style include more serpents and gold and green?" Frigga asked, eyes hard.

"Perhaps not _too many_ more snakes," he smiled, "but you must admit the colors do look quite lovely on her."

Lysse was torn between feeling annoyed that they seemed to spend so much time talking about her as though she were not there and relieved that she was not expected to do much more than float along the stream that was washing her life before it. She had thought the first change in her life, when she had run from the University had been extreme. Compared to what was happening to her now, it would be as nothing. Three weeks ago she had been scrubbing floors and sleeping in a communal servants' quarters. As of today, she would be an official guest of the AllMother, apparently an heiress, with servants of her own. And as if all that were not enough, Loki had all but declared his intentions to officially court her! If she stopped to think too deeply about any of this, Lysse would surely be rocked by wave upon wave of panic. Instead, she allowed herself to be pulled along by the forces of nature that were her beloved and his mother. She would put her trust in them and hope that it was not a naïve girl's fantasy.

***

Loki was inordinately pleased with himself as he entered the throne room in his full formal regalia. His Mother might know him well, but the blade cut both ways. He had anticipated her moves with Lysse, slipping her out of his rooms and into one under her protection, outfitting her as a Princess, and presenting her to Court as though just arrived from a secluded temple. That may suit Frigga and Odin's plans, and Njord's, but it was not Loki's. He had intention to let them use his lovely Sparrow as a sacrificial lamb on the alter of inter-realm unity. And if he knew his brother one bit, he had just done the one thing to ensure that Thor and Lysse would never wed.

"Why does it all have to come with so much formal nonsense," said brother groused, stepping up beside Loki in his red cape and winged helmet. "It is ridiculous that we all stand around pretending to be the best of friends. Half of these people want to depose us, and the other half want to breed with us."

"Now don't be so hasty," Loki chuckled. "I'm sure there are more than a few who would like to do both."

As Thor tugged at his collar Loki gave his brother an amused side eye. He was sure he knew what Thor's mood was really about.

"So, have you met her yet?" he asked innocently.

"Who?" Thor replied, for once only feigning ignorance.

"Your bride to be, of course," Loki said, trying to keep the malice out of his voice. She would be Thor's bride over his dead body. "Njord's daughter. You do know she's here, don't you?"

"So I heard," Thor grumbled, grimacing. "And no, I have not had the pleasure. I was out riding to clear my head when Mother's summons came. I only just had time to bathe, change, and make my way here. There seems to be some gossip floating about, but I haven't been able to get a clear fix on it. Do you know what it is, Brother?"

Loki shook his head innocently as the doors to the massive chamber opened and Odin entered, Frigga on his arm. He had to admit his parents knew how to make an entrance. As he and Thor stood straighter on the lower step of the dais, the Royal Couple made their way up the instantly cleared center aisle as the masses pressed one hand to their hearts and dipped their heads in subservience. Even their sons did obeisance as they were passed by their parents. When they reached the top step, Frigga curtsied and moved to sit on a smaller chair to Odin's right, while the AllFather importantly sat down on his throne.

"Think you can manage that?" Loki smirked out of the corner of his mouth.

"Sitting in a chair? Have more faith in me than that, Brother," Thor scoffed back.

"Odin AllFather," the court chancellor said, stepping forward. "Njord, Lord of Vaneheim, God of the Sea, wishes leave to approach."

"We will allow it," Odin said graciously, nodding his head.

A moment later the chancellor ushered in a man whom Loki would very happily have murdered. The Lord of the Vanir was tall and handsome, with cold, storm gray eyes and an air of self importance that would give Odin a run for his money. There was no subservience whatsoever to be seen in him as he approached the throne. When he reached the steps he paused, not long but just enough to imply that choice, not necessity dictated his movements. The bow he gave the AllFather was correct in every way, and yet it too managed to convey that fealty was merely a courtesy that Njord had condescended to grant to the King of the Nine Realms. Looking to his father, Loki saw the God's eyes narrow and harden.

"Greetings, Njord of the Vanir," Odin spoke at last, no warmth in his voice. "Be welcome at the Court of Asgard."

"Thank you, Odin AllFather," Njord spoke in turn, his voice as strong and appealing as the rest of him seemed to be. "And greetings to you, Frigga, Queen of the Nine Realms. Your beauty grows greater with each meeting, putting all other women to shame."

"You are kind as always, Njord," Frigga said with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. "And speaking of beauty, there is someone here I know you are dying to see."

Ah, here it was, Loki thought. Tingling with excitement, he turned to the small door off to one side of the throne. As his mother nodded her head, the chancellor walked over and opened the door, leading a young woman through it and onto the dais. Loki's woman. And she was stunning. He had to admit that when it came to outfitting a Lady for a royal event, his mother was even superior to him. Lysse's hair was piled high on her head with small gems placed neatly within it at seemingly random intervals. They sparkled and caught the light whenever she moved her head, giving the fanciful illusion that the stars danced in her hair. Subtle cosmetics had been applied to her face that made her eyes, always expressive and enticing, stand out even more beneath long, dark lashes. The dress, he was happy see, was one that his double had slipped into the room he had guessed his mother would set aside for her. The green was not exactly the color of his formal armor, his mother would not allow that, but the dark, hunter color would look perfectly offset next to his brighter shade. The bodice was cut on square lines, and he had to laugh as he realized that his mother had used her seidr to cover the marks that should have been visible by the fashionably low cut. Gold accents sliced through the fabric, elongating the length and giving an illusion of height to her petite form. She truly looked the Princess she was meant to be, he thought.

"By Valhalla," Thor breathed next to him, "perhaps marriage won't be that bad after all!"

"No it won't," Loki agreed, lips twisting up ironically.

"Citizens of Asgard," Frigga said, voice pitched to carry, "allow me to present the Lady Lyssette, daughter of our esteemed guest, the God Njord."

Lyssette curtsied prettily first to Odin and Frigga, dipping low to the floor, and then finally turning to do so to Njord. As she saluted her father, Loki could see the rigidness in her back and the tight set of her shoulders. He fought the urge to run to her side, to wrap his arm protectively around her and cast out all who caused her discomfort.

"Daughter," Njord said with a wide, court smile on his face, "what a welcome surprise! We have been desolate in your absence and are more grateful than we can say to Queen Frigga for reuniting us."

"I owe all duty and thanks to Her Majesty," Lysse said, in a subtle dig at the pompous God. 

"Not all duty, surely," Njord all but oozed, stepping forward to chuck her under her chin. "You must save some, after all, for the one who gave you life."

"I do indeed honor my mother greatly, sir," she said pointedly, and Loki saw him take a small step back as if struck.

Silently Loki pleaded with his Sparrow to be careful. This was not a man you embarrassed in public, he realized. Not unless you were willing to deal with the consequences. While Loki would happily take those consequences on himself, she was too sweet, too innocent to be prepared for the spite of one so long steeped in it.

"You must keep some for your husband as well," Njord went on, as if not hearing his daughters defiant response. With a widening grin, he turned to where Thor and Loki were standing. Here it comes, Loki thought, and was proven correct. "Perhaps, if things go as I have hoped, you will be offering some of that duty as a wedding gift to Lord Thor in the not too distant future."

The moment Loki had anticipated arrived. As if driven by Njord's words, Lysse turned at last so that she was facing Thor and Loki full on. Her eyes, those beautiful, shining orbs, flicked only briefly over Thor's anticipatory face before coming to rest full on Loki's. As his gaze met hers, he allowed all the desire he felt at the site of her to flow out through his eyes. Her face turned a charming shade of red, but she did not lower her head, instead keeping her connection with the younger prince fully intact before the entire court.

"Oh, I think not!" Thor said without thinking, suddenly realizing, as Loki had predicted he would, who exactly the woman being presented to him as a potential bride was.

"Thor! Silence!" Odin's voice cracked like a whip as the hall was suddenly full of whispers.

"What is the meaning of this disrespect?" Njord demanded, glaring from Odin, to Thor, to his daughter, and finally to Loki who stood with lust in his eyes as he smiled at Njord's daughter with an intimacy that left no doubt as to his intentions towards her. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fall out from Njord's arrival begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we're already at 20 chapters! Once again, a story that was supposed to be relatively short has taken on a life of its own. Thank you all so much for reading, responding, etc. I love seeing your thoughts on each new chapter!

“Have you any idea what you’ve done?” Odin raged, pacing back and forth as he glared at his sons. “With one sentence you have set back peace between Asgard and Vaneheim by centuries!”

”Father, I’m sure Thor meant no disrespect to Njord or his lovely daughter,” Loki began, only to have Odin turn on him with a wordless growl, fierce enough to make Loki take a step back in self preservation.

”I would hold my tongue if I were you,” Odin snarled at Loki. “Do not think I missed the way you were all but defiling her with your eyes, or that I haven’t heard the rumors swirling through the palace of the your disgraceful behavior this morning.”

”What rumors?” Thor asked, eyes narrowing as he glared suspiciously at his  brother.

Loki fidgeted absently with his left hand and tried to avoid meeting his father’s gaze.

The audience in the throne room had broken up shortly after Thor’s thoughtless outburst. Frigga, attempting to restore peace, had quickly stated her intent to show Njord to his chambers so that he might rest after his journey, and had swept Lysse along in her wake. A sharp look from his mother, along with a mental projection of the three words “Don’t you dare!” directly into his mind, had restrained Loki when he tried to follow. He had desperately wanted to be there when Lysse first privately confronted her father, but willful as he was he still didn’t _quite_ dare go deliberately against Frigga’s commands in these moments. Instead, he had been silently ordered, along with a guilty looking Thor, off of the dais and into the adjoining anti-room by a glare from their furious father.

”Quiet!” Odin barked now at his eldest. “You will apologize to that girl at the first possible moment.”

”Of course,” Thor said placatingly. “I never meant to offend her.”

”No, how should she or her father have ever thought that you did?” Odin mocked. “You will apologize to her, apologize to Njord, and then you will get down on bended knee and beg her to marry you.”

”That I will not do!” Thor stated unequivocally, meeting his father’s hard look with one of his own.

”I say you shall!” Odin snapped. “And last I checked, I was still AllFather of these Nine Realms!”

”You cannot truly expect me to marry a woman who loves my brother?” Thor asked in disgust. 

“It is perhaps not the most ideal of situations,” Odin allowed, lowering his voice a half a decibel. “But marriages have survived worse.”

”No. I flat out refuse. Is it bad enough that I would be taking my brother’s leavings to my wedding bed -” Thor began. 

“Do not try to be nice with me, boy,” Odin interrupted as a low growl formed in Loki’s throat, “I am not oblivious to what goes on in my court. I know it would not be the first time you two had shared a whore.”

Loki snarled and made to lunge at his father, only Thor’s strong arm holding him back.

"The girl is no whore," Thor assured his father, as Loki still struggled to free himself from the vice grip his brother held him in. "Even if she were, what is acceptable with a palace whore is not acceptable to me in a wife. But putting aside all of that, in case it has escaped your notice, Loki is besotted with the Lady. I would not do my brother so grievous a wrong as to steal from him, against her wishes no less, the object of his affection."

As Thor's words soothed his anger a bit, Loki allowed his blood to cool. He hated that he had lost himself so much as to almost attack his Father. It was the type of knee-jerk reaction typical to his hot headed brother, not his own calculating nature. He exchanged a quick look of thanks with Thor and nodded to let him know that the patricidal urge had subsided for a moment. There was no point in trying to battle Odin physically. One might as well throw oneself against a mountain side.

As he looked truculently at his Father, Loki was surprised to see Odin regarding him with something like appraisal in his eyes. What now? He wondered.

"Is this true?" Odin asked him at last. "You care for the girl? Your behavior was not just an immature stunt to annoy and embarrass your brother?"

"It was not," he said in clipped tones. "I love her."

Silence fell as the words left his mouth. Loki himself was rather surprised as he spoke aloud what he had never admitted, even in the privacy of his own thoughts. Of course it was true. It was blindingly, gloriously true. He loved everything about his Sparrow, from the way she would loose herself in any and all books set before her to the way her eyes shone when he walked into the room. She was smart, curious, sweet, passionate - in short, everything he had always desired in a woman. He supposed could not _really_ blame Odin for thinking his behavior was all a game. It was the sort of thing he might have done in the past, Loki had to concede that. But not now. Now, if it was a game, as all things were to him in a way, it was a deadly serious one. One he had no intention of loosing.

"What would you two have me do?" Odin asked begrudgingly, sitting in a chair.

"Let me talk to Njord," Loki proposed, an idea quickly taking shape in his brain. "Allow me to try and talk him around to accepting my suit."

"You mean this?" his Father asked. "You would formally court this Vanir girl?"

"I would," Loki nodded. "In fact, I mean to whether it is allowed or not."

"Best not lead with that when you address her father," Thor pointed out helpfully.

"What would I do without your advice, Brother?" Loki sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Very well," Odin decreed. "You may try your luck with Njord. We will see if your silver tongue is as skilled as you would like us to believe. The Norns know I have no desire to speak with the self aggrandizing, power hungry, fool."

"Thank you, Father," Loki managed to choke out, after Thor prompted him with a sharp elbow to the ribs.

"I would recommend letting Frigga calm him first. He has always had a soft spot for your Mother."

Loki and Thor exchanged looks as Odin rose and headed for the door. Once they were alone, Thor turned and punched Loki, hard, in the arm.

"Ow! What was that for?" Loki asked, rubbing the offended limb.

"You know damn well what!" Thor groused, throwing himself into a chair. "How could you let me make a fool of myself like that? You knew she was about to be presented as a potential bride. We spoke of it just before the audience began. You could have told me what was about to occur."

"But your reaction was perfect," Loki grinned, sitting himself and spreading out his long legs.

"Well, I'm glad I could amuse you," Thor sulked.

"Brother, think it through," Loki insisted, leaning forward. "You needed to react as you did in order to prevent the forced marriage. If you had known ahead of time and behaved as you should, what then? You and Lysse would have _tried_ to convince Njord and Father in private not to force the union, but do you really think you could have prevailed against them both? Before you knew it, the two of you would be joined irrevocably and we would all of us be miserable."

"Instead, I have insulted the ruler of our strongest ally and angered Father all at the same time."

"Your welcome," Loki grinned.

”You had best be serious about her, Loki. If this is just some perverse prank meant to amuse yourself at our expense...”

”I have never been more serious about anything in my life,” Loki interrupted him. “I didn’t realize how much I needed her until I thought I might loose her.”

”Well, in that case I will aid you in any way I can.”

”Thank you, Brother.”

”What can I say, I am a wise and benevolent King,” Thor grinned. “Or I will be in a mere matter of days.”

At his brother’s words Loki felt a small twinge of guilt. If his scheme went according to plan then the moment Thor spoke of would be more centuries than days away, if it occurred at all. Ruthlessly he stuffed down his regret on his brother’s behalf. What he did was for the good of Asgard and all the known realms. The fact that it also benefited him was simply a happy accident.

***

Lysse stood in the corner of the grand guest chamber trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. After the adrenaline rush of the day so far, which had enabled her to speak so boldly before all the assembled nobility, she was now feeling spent and mousy once more. She longed to slip unnoticed back to her pretty room in the Queen’s wing, or better still, back to Loki’s tower suite, and crawl into bed for days. 

“I hope the rooms are to your liking,” Frigga was saying as she stood watching Njord inspect the set of rooms that had been given over to the God. “We have outfitted everything just as requested by your emissary.”

”It is adequate,” he sniffed, looking as if he was offended by the accommodations but too well mannered to say so. 

“I am pleased to hear it,” Frigga maintained her regal smile in a way that Lysse would have found near impossible in her place. 

“All of Asgard is so gaudy,” Njord said with a curl of his lip. “I don’t know how you manage to tolerate it.”

”It is all a matter of taste, I suppose,” she said diplomatically. 

“Do you ever wonder, Frigga,” he asked, voice suddenly low and too smooth to Lysse’s ears as he stepped nearer to the Queen. “Wondered what might have been if you had chosen to wed me instead of that one-eyed braggart?”

Lysse stifled a gasp at hearing the AllFather so brazenly spoken of, but Frigga just gave a small laugh. 

“He had two eyes at the time, if memory serves,” she smiled. 

“If you had chosen me, I know it would now be me on the Throne of Asgard.”

”All the more reason to be glad I wed Odin,” she replied. “Hear me Njord, and listen well. I have some fondness for you due to our shared childhood. Do not, however, mistake matters in the present. My loyalty, first, last, and always is to Odin and Asgard.”

”If that is how you would have it,” he shrugged dismissively. 

“It is,” her tone brooked no question on the subject.

"Well, best come here, girl, and let me have a look at you," he sighed, changing the subject abruptly and gesturing to Lysse.

Her stomach dropping to her toes, Lysse crossed hesitantly to him, stopping as far away as possible. She was inordinately glad that Frigga was in the room as well. Njord seemed to have some respect for the Queen, or at least as much as he had for anyone. Lysse was all too aware that when last she had seen her Father, he had been lying on the floor, knocked unconscious by the chandelier she had magically dropped on his head.

"Look up girl, don't stare at the ground like some wretched peasant!"

Drawing a deep breath, Lysse raised her eyes and tried to summon all of her courage. She saw appraisal in his gaze, and almost, she shocked to see, approval?

"You do clean up well, I will give you that," Njord opined, looking her over. "Pretty little thing, like that Mother of yours. I was sorry she didn't take me up on my offer to come back to Vaneheim with me. She could have kept me entertained for weeks, perhaps even months. I suppose you're worried I'll be cross with you for your little temper tantrum at the University. Well, set your mind at rest. I have survived much worse. Most young maidens have flighty, overdramatic temperaments in my experience. Your Mother certainly did. She tried to strangle me with my own belt if memory serves me. No, we'll speak no more of it. The important thing is that it proved you have the gift, and are a worthy heir to my name. Once you are seated on a throne as the new Queen of Asgard you will bring glory to me and to Vaneheim, my Etta."

"Lyssette," she corrected him, back stiffening.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, clearly stunned that she would dare to speak back to him.

"My name is Lyssette, Lysse if you prefer."

"I do not prefer. Etta is a good, Vanir name. You will accustom yourself to it in time."

Lysse ground her teeth, but held her tongue at a glance from Frigga. She could not believe this... person was her father. How could he speak so to her, when he had twice now completely upended her life? And to be so dismissive of her Mother, a woman Lysse had never even been able to know! She desperately wished she were a more accomplished sorceress, that she might strike him down indeed.

"I saw the way the younger prince was staring at you in the throne room," he went on, seemingly oblivious to her roiling emotions. "Whatever there is between you ends as of this moment. I do not know what sort of debaucheries go on at your court, Frigga, but I will not have my daughter be any part of them."

"There is no debauchery," Lysse said quickly, if not entirely truthfully. "I am in love with Prince Loki."

"Prince Loki?" Njord parroted with a mocking laugh. "What are you thinking, girl? With your looks and pedigree you can aim much higher than a gangly second son, no offense intended, Frigga. No, I have a much shinier prize in my sights for you."

As Lysse set her mouth in a mutinous line, Frigga stepped forward and laid her hand gently on Njord's arm. Lysse flinched inwardly at the way his eyes lingered on the AllMother's hand, but managed to hold her tongue.

"You have had a long journey, Njord," Frigga said, "and will be in want of a rest and a bath, I am sure. I will send for servants to attend to it. In the mean time, I must see to it that all is prepared for the welcome feast this evening. Lysse, I will need your assistance with the lists, please."

"Ah, ingratiating yourself with the royal family already, Etta? That's my girl!" Njord chuckled. "Very well, send your servants. And if you are not to attend on me yourself, see to it that they are comely and biddable."

"As you request," Frigga replied, hand on Lysse's back betraying the tension in her body. "Till supper."

When they had exited the room and turned the nearest corner, Frigga turned to the wall and struck it, hard, with one hand.

"Oh, that creature!" she seethed, rubbing what had to be a sore fist. "How I dearly wish I had allowed Odin to dispose of him ages ago! Sorry, my dear. I know he is your father."

"No apology necessary," Lysse assured her. "I heartily agree. I am sorry, my Queen, if I have added to your stress."

"If it was not you it would be something else," Frigga shrugged, beginning to walk again. "And you have brought more than stress, Lysse. You have brought happiness. To my son's life, and therefore to mine."

"He is the most wonderous gift I could ever have hoped for, Your Majesty."

"Lysse, you may call me Frigga," the Queen smiled. "It gladdens me to hear you speak so, my dear, but you must make sure you are going into this with eyes open."

"What do you mean?" Lysse asked.

"Loki is a... complicated man. One not given to trust or to openness. He has not had an easy time of it on Asgard, living in his brother's shadow. I have striven all his life to ensure that he knows he is loved, but still... there are memories we carry with us, Lysse. Some from even before our conscious memories begin. They can haunt the present like unwelcome specters at a feast. I love Loki fiercely, and I believe that you do as well. You will need to hold on to that. He will test you at times."

"Test me? How?"

"Your patience, for one," Frigga laughed. "He can be more maddening than any other person I have ever met, save his father. He will do things that anger you, things that make it hard for you to trust him. But if you love him, I beg you to give him the benefit of the doubt. He will be looking for any sign of doubt, any sign that you are wavering in your affection so that he may pounce on it. Don't allow him to do that. He needs a firm hand, but a gentle and loving one."

"I know how he is, My... Frigga," Lysse smiled shyly. "I have lived with him for weeks now, seen him at his best and worst. I would bear with ten, twenty times worse to have him."

"Trust me, Lysse, you have not seen his worst," Frigga said wryly.  "And there are somethings even he can not control."

"You would warn me away from him?"

"By no means. I just want you to know what you are signing on for. I have no doubt that his feelings for you are strong, and that he wants to do his best to make you happy. I wish nothing but that for the best of you. Now all we need do is convince that... Njord to allow the match."

"Why should he have any say at all?" Lysse demanded. "He barely knows me."

"Technically he does not," Frigga admitted, "but practically, he can make things perilously difficult. The relations between our two realms have always been strained. He resents Odin's preeminence among the Gods. For centuries he has been looking for an excuse to give the other deities of Vaneheim to rebel against the AllFather. A perceived snub to a daughter of the Vanir, his own child, could very easily be that excuse. He will spin any union between you and Loki as a slap in the face when he had offered you to Odin's heir, the soon to be King. I am afraid there are not a few lords of his realm who would follow him in his rebellion, plunging us all into a war the likes we have not seen for ages."

Lysse stared in horror at the image Frigga painted. She did not want to believe he would be so ruthless as to bring such chaos and bloodshed upon them, but thinking of the man they had just left, she had no doubt he was fully capable of doing so.

"I am so sorry," she whispered.

"It is not your fault," Frigga said resolutely. "And please, do not despair. I have never encountered more wily minds than that of my husband and younger son. One of them will find a way through this maze, have no fear."

"I will trust Loki," Lysse assured her, thinking back to Frigga's earlier entreaty.

"That's what I wanted to hear," Frigga smiled. "Now, I really do have some tasks I could use your assistance on, if you are not too fatigued?"

"Not at all. I would appreciate the distraction."

"Excellent."

Straightening her spine she followed Frigga down the corridor, trying her best to keep fear and panic at bay.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter of pure smut, beginning to end! Sometimes the mind just goes into the gutter and stays there for a bit, and I have to share it with all of you! Hope you enjoy!

The bed in the room they had given her was not as large as Loki's massive one up in his tower, but it was still by far the largest Lysse had ever had for her own. It was too big, that was the problem. At least that was what she told herself as she tossed and turned, sleep eluding her. She felt small and insignificant lying alone on the large mattress. It was _not_ that she longed desperately for Loki's arm around her. That after just a handful of nights pressed against his strong chest, legs tangled with his, his scent filling her lungs, she was incapable of relaxing without him. That would be desperately needy and clingy, and she was determined not to be either one. She was strong and independent. All evidence to the contrary. 

Sighing, she rolled over onto her side and replayed the evening for the hundredth time. She had been seated at the high table. It was absurd, really. Two days ago she had been slated to be standing behind Loki's chair, serving his meal, and now she was seated across from him! Frigga had been the epitome of tact, managing to avoid placing her next to her father or either of the princes. She had been between the Queen herself and the ancient, kindly Vanaheim ambassador. The two of them, who had known each other for thousands of years, had regaled her with stories of her ancestral home. On more than one occasion, Lysse had forgotten herself enough to laugh aloud at some amusing anecdote one or the other of them related. Unfortunately, every time she did so she would feel the heat of multiple sets of eyes on her, and her mirth would prove short lived.

Loki had done everything but stand on the table and dance in an effort to get her attention, but she had listened to Frigga's stern advice and kept her attention off of him. They needed to handle negotiations carefully, and her prince's mood was volatile. The only problem was, the more she ignored him, the more insistent he became. Halfway through the second course, he had abandoned all propriety.

She was just raising a spoonful of a heavenly soup to her lips when she suddenly felt an insistent pressure on the insides of her knees. Choking on the broth, her eyes darted in disbelief to the cheerful old man to her left, only to assure herself that both of his hands were indeed where they ought to be. As she apologized for her breach of manners and dabbed her napkin to her lips, she looked across the table to see Loki rubbing one finger back and forth across his lips, a small smirk playing about his mouth. As she gave him what she hoped was a quelling look, the smirk grew, as did the force pushing her knees apart. Not wanting to make a scene, she reluctantly allowed her legs to separate slightly. This proved to be a mistake, as ghostly fingers began tracing a light pattern on her inner thigh. Lysse drew in a quick breath and felt herself becoming wet as the fingers moved closer and closer to her core. It wasn't until he was drawing an "i" along her lips, the dot conveniently pressed to her clit, that she realized that he was spelling his name out possessively on her skin.

Lysse shuddered, trying desperately to keep her composure now that the invisible fingers were sliding along her soaking folds. The ambassador was looking at her expectantly, and she realized that he must have asked her a question. Trying to look as though she were paying attention, she managed to hum in what she hoped was a suitable manner. It must have been good enough for him, because he launched back into his story with a dry smile. Lysse glared daggers at Loki, but he was innocently attending to his dinner, occasionally chatting with Thor who was seated to his right. And all the time, his magical fingers were toying with her cunt. She could feel them spreading her open, dipping in to test the wetness, and then sliding back out to graze over her clit just enough to make her fight to stifle a moan without lingering long enough to bring her any sort of satisfaction. Lysse would have happily strangled her love in that moment. He knew how frustrated she was from his punishment. She was starting to realize that she would rather, a hundred times rather, submit to his spankings than to this cruel, tormenting delay of pleasure. 

Finally catching his eye, Lyse tried to glare him into retreat. It seemed to have the opposite affect as two large, invisible fingers suddenly pushed roughly all the way up inside of her, hard, while across the table Loki rocked his hips forward in his chair in a manner that was erotically suggestive to her, but would easily go unnoticed to anyone not currently being tortured by a phantom hand under the table. Lysse bit her bottom lip and grabbed desperately for her wine glass, praying her distraction would be chalked up to the events of the day. The fingers fucking her pressed in deep several times, and then pulled back out of her to smear her slick desire back down her leg. Lysse closed her eyes and swallowed hard, torn between being grateful he seemed to have ceased his torment of her for the moment, and longing to have his ghost fingers back on her and in her. Loki, damn him, had turned completely to the dark haired Sif on his other side and was chatting away as though she did not exist. Only the hilarity buried deep in his eyes gave away that anything out of the ordinary had happened.

Lying now in the too big bed, Lysse ran her own hand down her body, wishing it was Loki's big paw rather than her small one touching her. Tentatively she let it drift lower, desperate to alleviate the empty ache inside her. As her hand reached the hem of her nightgown and began to slide under, however, she remembered his warning from the morning. She was not to touch herself, not to make herself cum. If she did, Loki had promised, he would know, and his punishment would be far worse than a mere delay of her gratification. With a groan of frustration, Lysse punched her pillow and rolled back onto her back, hands balling into fists.

"Now that is a very, very good girl," a low voice purred from across the room, next to the large armoire.

Lysse shrieked out as she jumped up to a sitting position, but before the sound could escape her lips a large, dominating hand was pressed across her mouth.

"Hush, Sparrow," Loki chuckled, smiling down at her from where he now perched on the edge of her bed. "You didn't really think I would allow the honor guards outside your door keep me from your bed, did you? You should have more faith in me than that."

"Loki!" she breathed, as he freed her mouth from his hand and leaned down to claim it in a kiss instead. 

For a long moment neither said anything more as he delved into her mouth greedily, sucking in her tongue, biting on her low lip, and scrambling her senses until nothing existed except the kiss he seared into her. When he finally pulled away, she was panting breathlessly, arching into his body in a desperate attempt to will him inside of her.

"You were magnificent today, Sparrow," he told her, making her tingle all over. "From insisting to my mother that you wanted only me, to holding your own against your beast of a father. You made me unspeakably proud that such a fierce, dazzling woman was mine to command."

Lysse made a noise that was somewhere between a sob and a plea, his praise making her even more desperate for him. Loki smiled at her, obviously enjoying her over arousal, and teasingly tweaked her already hard nipples.

"Loki," she whimpered, leaning into his touch.

"Did you want something, love?" he asked her, a cocky grin on his face.

Lysse looked up at him, eyes pleading. Wordlessly, she tried to communicate her desperation for him. 

"You must use your words, darling," he said, shaking his head. "How else can I know what you want?"

He was playing with her, of course. It was all too obvious what she wanted, but he was going to make her say it. Lysse could feel her face flush bright red as he looked expectantly at her. It was one thing to moan things in the heat of the moment, in response to what he was saying and doing to her. Speaking them now, when he sat there looking at her, fully clothed, was excruciatingly embarrassing.

"I want you," she managed to get out.

"You want me to what?" he prompted, smile widening.

 Lysse closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He was obviously not going to take pity on her. 

"I want you to make me cum," she said at last, face crimson and eyes downcast.

"Ah, now that wasn't so hard, was it?" Loki purred, smiling smugly as he caressed her body. "There is just one problem, Sparrow," he added, voice awash in regret. 

"What... what problem?" she asked, trembling almost with how much she wanted him.

"You were very, very naughty, love," he reminded her, shaking his head. "You broke the first rule I set for you. Your punishment for such a crime can not be just wiped away so quickly. Not unless you really, truly have learned your lesson. Are you sure, Sparrow, that you deserve to be forgiven so soon?"

"Yes, Loki," she whined, wiggling on the bed in frustration. "Please, please forgive me."

"Hmm..." Loki's eyes raked over her, fingers trailing down her body, pupils blown wide. "Well, perhaps you could convince me. Would you like to try?"

"Yes!" she practically wailed. "Yes, please, Loki."

"Well then," he smirked at her, "why don't you get down on your knees and give it your best shot."

***

Loki watched Lysse slide off the bed onto the floor with wild anticipation. She was so beautifully desperate in her desire to cum. Without any need for his instruction she quickly unlaced and pulled down his pants, setting loose his rampant cock. With a quick flick of her eyes up to his face, she leaned down and to his surprise first drew his heavy balls into her eager mouth. Loki leaned back in pleasure as her cat like tongue laved his sac with gentle licks. She had learned quite a bit in the comparatively short time he had had her, and knew exactly how he liked to be touched. When she let him pop out of her mouth, it was only to draw her tongue slowly up the length of him in one long swoop. When she reached the top, she swirled around the head, sucking the pearl of precum with obvious relish.

"Please, Master," she said, looking up at him as she laid her cheek against his cock and rubbed softly. "Please, let me cum. Please, please. I will make it so very good for you. Please fill me with your cock so I may clench around it and feel your seed shoot into me as I milk you. I am so very, very sorry for disobeying you."

"Oh, Sparrow, you make quite a convincing argument," he groaned, feeling himself tighten at the sight and sound of her begging.

"Yes, Master, My Lord Prince," she gasped, pulling him into her mouth to suck him hard and deep.

Loki rocked his hips forward, luxuriating in the sensation of her wet mouth wrapped around him. He had to be careful or he would cum now and ruin the game. And there was so much more he wanted to do with her before the night was over.

"You regret disobeying your Prince?" he asked, voice as stern as he could manage. Lysse nodded with his cock still deep in her mouth, eyes big. "And you will do what I say from now on? Hm... I would love to feel you cum for me."

Pulling out of her mouth and standing, Loki vanished their clothing with a wave of his hand. The hopeful look on her face as he raised her from her knees went to his heart and he pulled her in to a tender kiss. The taste of him on her tongue was erotic as he pushed against her stomach in need.

"Very well, darling girl," he decided, caressing her face. "Since you have been so very good for me today I will allow you to cum. But you will do so as I wish, agreed?"

"Yes, My Prince," Lysse agreed frantically, nodding her eagerness. "Anything you want."

"What a lovely phrase," Loki sighed, savoring it. "What I want is to feel you cum while my cock is buried in that lovely ass of yours. Do you think you can do that for me, Sparrow?"

Lysse's eyes went big, fear mixing with desire, but her need was too strong to deny him. Nodding again, trembling slightly, she allowed him to place her on the bed on her stomach. Loki took a moment to steady himself, thanking the universe once more for bringing this delightful creature into his life. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he gently massaged her cheeks, pulling them apart to reveal the tight little hole between them. Just thinking of his huge cock penetrating such a tiny passage made him moan, and she shook under his hand.

"Relax, Sparrow," he cooed, running a soothing hand down her back. "I promise I will make this so good for us both. You trust me, don't you?"

The fact that she didn't hesitate with her agreement caused his blood to soar. Running his fingers through her slit to gather some of the slick moisture pooling there, Loki slowly began to insert them into her, stretching her opening in effort to prepare it for his much larger intrusion to come. When he sensed her starting to panic, his other hand moved down to play with her pussy, distracting her with how it glided through her folds and tickled her swollen clit. She was so very sensitive to his touch, and her breathing was coming fast and shallow.

Unable to bear it any longer, Loki moved his body to cover hers, caging her into the mattress beneath him. Leaning forward, his mouth found her neck and sucked a wet kiss onto her salty skin.

"It was cheating of my mother to cover your marks today," he told her, keeping her mind busy as he slid his cock into her cunt to coat it in the slick lubricant of her making. "I worked so hard to place them on you, and they enhanced even a beauty as great as yours. I hope you realize that once the worlds know you are mine you will never be allowed to cover them. I will expect you to wear them proudly, every bruise and bite mark a symbol of how well you please your prince."

Lysse moaned beneath him, at the words or the way his head was now poised at her rear entrance he knew not. She was pressing back towards him, even now with the prospect of pain before her. He had never known a woman to want him the way she seemed to, and it acted as a balm to every insecurity, every fear that he was somehow less than a man when compared to the mindless piles of muscle that tromped through his father's court. 

Continuing to speak lurid details to her of how he would make sure everyone knew she belonged only to him, Loki pressed forward, feeling her ring of muscles dilate despite resistance to grant him access. Lysse gasped in shock, but he quickly moved his hand to rub her clit as pushed in farther.

"Oh gods, Sparrow," he groaned when his entire head had made its way inside her. "You are so tight. I've never felt anything like it."

Lysse whimpered, and he gently kissed her neck, playing more with her pussy and then smearing the results on his cock. As he rocked slightly back and then further in he pinched her nipples with his other hand and heard her make small, encouraging noises that delighted him. It was tortuous and blissful all at once as he painstakingly worked his way into her, inch by inch, never ceasing his filthy praise in her ear. When he finally reached his hilt, he stilled, savoring the choking sensation of her vicelike grip along the entire length of his shaft.

"Oh Norns," he grunted as she shook beneath him. "Lysse, my darling Sparrow, you are perfect. Can you feel how you are pulling me in? I am going to move now, darling, and when I do I want you to let go for me. Can you do that? Let me feel how much you want me inside you?"

As she gave her head a tiny nod, Loki moaned and began making small, gliding strokes within her, pulling back and then pressing back deep again. His thumb returned to her clit, tapping it in time with his thrusts, while two of his fingers slid into her cunt. He could feel his own cock through the thin wall separating her passages, and it was so lewdly erotic he wasn't sure how much more he could take before he exploded into her. Increasing the pressure of his thumb on her button, he pulled her earlobe between his teeth.

"You are so delicious, my wanton little bird," he told her, panting now. "Such a filthy little Sparrow to let me do this to you. Can you feel how I am filling you up? Both your holes stuffed with me? Do you feel how wet this is making you? I love how you let me defile you, let me have my perverted way with you. I promise you, I will never stop making you cum in the most dirty ways I can devise. And you will love every last minute."

As he pinched hard on her clit, Lysse gave a shattering cry that Loki only just managed to muffle with his hand over her mouth and came, hard. Her muscles contracting around him caused his own cry, fortunately made into the pillow, as she pulled rope upon rope of cum from him. Both of their bodies were racked with spasms as he bit down hard on her neck, riding her as the waves of their orgasms pulsed through their joined bodies.

When sanity finally returned, Loki gingerly pulled out of her abused tunnel, doing his best to be gentle. A startling amount of white came pouring out after, and he was made almost hard again by the site of it pooling beneath her. Gently, he ran his hand down the length of her back, saying a silent prayer to whatever fate had granted him the favor of this woman.

"Are you alright love?" he asked, concerned that he might have pushed her too far. "Did I hurt you badly?"

"I...am... alright," she panted. "Or... I will be. That was... intense."

"Intense in a good way?" he asked, hating the pleading tone that slipped into his voice.

When she only nodded he was momentarily panicked, but then she turned her head and a slow, sensual smile spread over her face. Her eyes, dark and lust glazed, held none of the pain he had feared, only residual desire.

They lay entwined for some time, not speaking but simply enjoying each other's contact.

"How did you get in here?" Lysse finally asked, some time later.

"There is a passageway in the back of the armoire," he told her with a half grin. "It leads to the tapestry in the east hall by the baths."

"And I suppose you know all of the secret passageways in the palace?" she asked with a roll of her eyes.

"Most of them," he answered with a laugh. "Though one can never be sure one knows them all. I was quite pleased when Mother put you in this room. But do you know, the more I think on it, I suspect she did it on purpose. She would never admit it at this moment, but she approves of us." 

"I am relieve," Lysse smiled. "I would hate to have the AllMother as my enemy."

"You would indeed!" Loki replied without jest. "I would prefer to battle Thor, Odin, or the Warriors Three combined than match strength with my Mother. She is the strongest person I know. Though you might give her a run for her money."

"You flatter me," Lysse obviously didn't believe him.

"You may be angry with me in the next few days," he told her, wishing it were not true. "There are things that I have to do. Things you might not approve of. Just please, love, remember this. I do them all with only two goals in mind."

"What goals?" she asked when he went silent for a moment.

"First, as it must be, remember that I act in the good of the realm," he said, running his fingers through her hair. "It must be protected, regardless of the cost. And second, I will do everything and anything I must to keep you with me. I am not a good man, Lysse, but I am yours. I will not give you up to Thor, your father, or anyone else."

"Loki," she breathed, kissing him where his neck met his shoulder.

"If I can find away to achieve both of those goals, and I believe that I can, then I must attempt it, Lysse. Even if others get hurt. Even if it hurts us in the short term. I need you to understand this."

"I... I think I do," she answered, staring at him in confusion.

"Good enough," he sighed. "Now, let us get what sleep we can before I have to leave you. It would not do for me to be caught naked in your bed, no matter how much I want to be nowhere else."

As he held her close, listening to her breath settling, Loki went over once again his plan for the morrow. He wished there was a way to get everything he wanted without pain to those he cared about, but someone would always have to lose out; it was the way the world was made. All he could do was play the game and hope that he was among the winners. He and his little Sparrow.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki begins to put his plan into motion, and Lysse makes a new friend!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I'm back!   
> So sorry I had to take a week off. It was my parent's 50th anniversary, and I was in charge of throwing them a big party/event. It turns out herding cats and herding actors has nothing on herding family, so between organizing everything and traveling out of town I had no time for writing. 
> 
> All that is over now, though, and I am anxious to continue the story! Hope you like the update, as always any feedback you have is greatly appreciated! Love you all!!!

His tower was irritatingly empty as he sat at his desk, reviewing the contract one last time. Loki was painfully aware that his eyes kept straying to the sofa against the far wall in anticipation of seeing a small body curled up on it reading. Every time he looked and found it empty again it made him grind his teeth, first at the very fact that he had become so accustomed so quickly to seeing her there that his brain refused to accept her absence, and second at the absence itself. She was meant to be with him. Occupying herself with something certainly, but available for his viewing pleasure until the constant need he felt for her drove him to put aside his work and make use of her tantalizing body in any of the countless ways he was always dreaming up for it. It was unacceptable that she was elsewhere. 

Soon. Soon he would have her back with him and all would be as it should. He just had to convince her thrice-cursed father that he was an acceptable, nay a _preferable_ choice of mate compared to Thor. 

The loud knock on the outer door echoed through the chambers, snapping him to attention. As he heard his secretary Eiger, happily undertasked of late, open the door and greet his visitor, Loki straightened the papers on his desk and sat up straight. He would not stand he had decided. He was a God in his own right and a Prince of a superior house. He needed to make clear from the start the power dynamics at play here. 

Loki winced inwardly as he heard Eiger cry out as he was slammed absently into a wall by his guest. Apparently Njord did not take kindly to being greeted by underlings. Good. Loki could use his irritation to his own advantage. 

“Odinson,” the large God boomed, forcing his way into the study despite Eiger’s protestations. “Tell your dog to heel, I will not be kept waiting by you or anyone!”

Loki looked up with studied impassivity on his face. Lysse's father was huffing a bit, no doubt from the climb up the stairs. Loki had long ago discovered his tower could be a weapon in itself. It took only a small warp of reality to increase by double or more the number of stairs one needed to climb in order to reach his haven. He had used this trick on a number of occasions to dissuade Thor and his cronies from drunken late night dropins. It seemed to work equally well to discompose his would-be father-in-law. 

“He merely wished to announce you,” Loki told the larger man with a small smile that an unobservant man might have found solicitous.

“I can damn well announce myself. Why in all the Hels do you keep your rooms at the top of the world, and why did you insist I meet you here?”

”Forgive me for making you climb, my lord,” Loki said, grinning internally. “Please, won’t you have a seat?”

With a grunt Njord sank into the indicated chair and struggled to return his breathing to normal. Despite his robust appearance, it seemed the god was apparently not in the best of shape. Loki stored the knowledge away for potential use later.

”As for my tower, I have found, as I am sure you must have, that palaces are hotbeds for eavesdroppers. It occurred to me that you and I might have some things we wished to discuss in private, and as such would prefer to conduct this interview where we were less likely to be subjected to prying ears. I apologize if the climb was too strenuous for you.”

"Impertinent whelp!" Njord growled, glaring at Loki. "I am an important man with several far more pressing appointments to make today. I merely resented the time it took to traipse all the way up here."

"Ah," Loki nodded, pretending to believe him. "Of course. I apologies in any case, Lord Njord."

"I should think so," Njord grunted, steepling his fingers. "So, what do you hope to achieve be dragging me all the way up here? You don't really believe I would ever allow my darling daughter to marry a runty younger son do you? Not when she is in position to bring down the prized bull of the Nine Realms?"

Loki knew Njord was just attempting to rile him, but it was still difficult to smother his anger and smile thinly. 

"Thor is strong, yes," Loki allowed, fantasizing about how one of his daggers would look protruding from Njord's throat. "But brute strength is not the sum worth of a God. You of all men should know that."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Njord blustered.

"Simply that your arcane abilities are as renowned as your physical prowess," Loki supplied smoothly. "I may not be as muscle bound as my brother, but that does not mean I am without my own resources. Put simply, there is not a being in the nine who could easily best me in matters of sorcery."

"What has that to do with my daughter's hand?" Njord demanded.

"Nothing," Loki agreed. "Which is exactly my point. Your daughter is not a bauble to be awarded to the strongest contestant at some village fair. She is an intelligent, strong woman, half Goddess in her own right, with a mind of her own."

"Please," Njord scoffed. "She is a spoiled half breed bitch who will do what she is told and be grateful for the opportunity. She _will_ bring me closer to the throne of Asgard. I have Odin by the short hairs after your brother's tactless outburst, and we both know it."

"You want to get Lyssette, and by proxy yourself, closer to the throne. An understandable desire. But why should that desire need include Thor?"

"He is Odin's heir," Njord said with a shrug. "The senile AllFather dotes on the oaf."

"He is fond of his oldest," Loki allowed, hating the sting of admitting this truth, "but not enough to risk the fate of the realms for his sake. Not if he is the reason for the threat in the first place."

"What exactly are you proposing?" Njord asked, leaning forward.

"Suppose you were to go to Odin," Loki posited, leaning back and crossing his ankles. "Tell him how offended you are by Thor's disrespect of your daughter. That your honor cannot abide allowing such an insult to go unanswered. Lyssette cannot be wed to one who would so dishonor her. You are prepared, in fact, to plunge the realms into war if recompense is not made."

"Oh, I'll have recompense, alright! In the form of my daughter on a throne!"

 "Why would you settle for that, my lord, when it could be you on a throne instead?"

"What do you mean?" Njord attempted to keep his face passive, but Loki could tell he had him now.

"Tell Odin that you still mean your daughter to marry his heir, that your great houses be joined," Loki smiled. "But after such a slight, that heir can obviously not be Thor. You intend to wed her to me instead."

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Njord barked with laughter. "Tell me, is her cunt really that good, or has seducing her just been a means to an end?"

"You will give me Lysette's hand," Loki went on, ignoring Njord's crude question about his own daughter, "and pledge to keep peace with Asgard, provided that Odin _not_ name Thor his heir."

"Even if he does not, that would not make you the king," Njord pointed out.

"Not yet," Loki said with a half shrug. "Odin is old." 

"Odin is my age," Njord pointed out. 

 _Exactly,_ Loki thought.

"He is fading. The Odinsleep has been put off for over a century now. It will not be long before he leaves this realm for the halls of Valhalla. Who knows, he may even have assistance passing over to the Warrior's Hall... I doubt anyone would look too hard for the one who aided him there. Thor, as has been shown to all, is a reckless oaf. When the AllFather goes to his eternal reward, who do you think Asgard will name? The idiot who almost brought the realm to war, or the son who won the hand of the Princess of the Vanir? Who can ensure peace through his union with the other great power in the universe? Who has been living, with his wife, on Vaneheim, commanding their armies for his father-in-law."

"And what's in it for me?"

"When Asgard is mine, I will have a great deal to manage," Loki said, feeling the fish wiggle on his hook. "What would be more logical than for me to allow the Lord of the Vanir, who after all is my kin, to govern his realm as a King in his own right? Especially when I know that my eventual child would be his grandchild. His heir."

"Well, my son," Njord smiled, "it appears we may have something to talk about after all."

***

Lysse walked back and forth in agitation in the small garden off of her rooms. She desperately wished she knew where Loki was. He had been so elusive in his manner before leaving her. After the intensity of the night they had shared, the shift to the "distant prince" persona had filled her with unease. Only the searing kiss he had dizzied her with before slipping out through the secret tunnel in the wardrobe had kept her from demanding he confess what nefarious wheels were spinning in his brain. His kisses were completely unfair weapons, she realized, and he wielded them mercilessly.

"You are going to wear a hole in the grass," a teasing voice said.

Lysse looked up to see Sif walking towards her, hand resting as ever on her sword, a fighter's swagger to her stride. Lysse desperately wished she had half the assurance as the other woman. Sif, she was sure, would never pace a rut in a garden because she was too overwhelmed to act on her own behalf. No, she would have strut into the throne room and told Odin and Njord both to their faces that she refused to be sold off like a heifer to the highest bidder.

"Forgive me, I will try to keep to the path," Lysse said aloud, miserably.

"I was merely joking," Sif assured her, looking at Lysse more intently. "Lady Lyssette, is something wrong?"

"Wrong?" Lysse heard an unnatural tone of hysteria enter her voice. "Let's see, my absent father reappeared a lifetime after raping my mother - leaving her to die from childbirth I might add. His first act on finding me is to cause the death of my grandfather and the ouster of my grandmother from her home and place of employment. After barely escaping his clutches myself, I wind up in service at the palace, where a predatory lord stalks me for a week before demanding my company on a trip where certain  _services_ will obviously be expected of me. Whilst trying to avoid said services, I am stupid enough to pilfer a book written by my grandfather that the lord had cast aside in his chambers. The presence of this book on my person is enough to damn me to the guards on my way out of the palace, who then proceed to accost me. Just when I have begun to steel myself to my fate, I am rescued by the most unlooked for of saviors, who turns out to be everything I could ever want. So of course I almost doom him to eternity locked within his own head in return for his kindness to me. And when, another miracle! I do not destroy his sanity, it is only to be snatched from his arms by the same father who began all of my troubles and sold like a horse to his stupid brother! So no, why should anything be wrong!"

Shouting the final words, Lysse sank down onto the ground and buried her head in her arms, doing her best to hold back a sob.

"Fandral wouldn't have actually forced you," Sif said quietly after a moment of silence. "He likes the game and the chase, but he is over confident, not cruel. Most women in court, maids especially, only pretend to push him away, in an effort to not seem easy."

"That's not what I was doing," Lysse mumbled from behind her arms.

"I know that," Sif sighed, hunkering down on the ground next to her. "We all do, now. I know he feels horrid for the way everything happened with the guards. He and Thor both do."

"I know you are their friend," Lysse said, brushing her eyes with the back of her hand and looking up. 

"That doesn't make me blind," Sif shrugged. "I am still a woman, and know what goes on in this court. Why do you think I carry a sword?"

"I envy you," Lysse groaned, smiling weekly at the warrior.

"And I you," Sif said, almost as though against her will.

"Why?" Lysse was stunned.

"Thor is not the brightest mind on Asgard," Sif said carefully, causing Lysse to hide a smile at the understatement, "but he is not the oaf people think him. He would not make a bad husband."

"I don't love him," Lysse told her.

"Most royal marriages are not love matches," Sif informed her carefully. "You could do much worse. He is kind, handsome, noble, strong... Once he marries he will be faithful."

"It sounds like you are describing a dog, not a husband," Lysse replied. "I have nothing against Lord Thor, but my heart is with another."

"Loki," Sif nodded.

"Loki," Lysse agreed with a helpless smile. "Irrevocably Loki."

"You will be the confoundment of many people, My Lady," Sif said. "But I understand."

"You do?"

"The heart does not choose who it loves. If it did, all our lives would be much simpler. I know Loki is not well understood on Asgard. He is different. I know what that is like. In a way we are two sides of the same coin. A female who wants only to do battle, and a male who would rather avoid one through cunning. Neither of us were made to feel at home here. Yet I think I may have had it easier in the end," Sif shrugged. "I was not royalty. And I didn't have a sibling who was the personification of all I lacked."

"He lacks nothing for me," Lysse confessed.

"Then he is more fortunate than he knows. Or perhaps not. He has been different, Lady Lysse, since you came into his service. Less secretive, perhaps. Less troubled, definitely. I used to fear before... not him precisely, but what his envy, his unease in his own skin, might drive him to do. You gentle him, in a way."

"I don't know if that's true," Lysse laughed, thinking of the man who had left her bedchambers not too long since. "But I thank you for saying so. What of you, Lady Sif? Do you ever dream of love for yourself? Or is battle enough?"

"It has to be," she replied practically. "We are not all so fortunate, My Lady, to have the one we love return our affection."

"Please, call me Lysse," she said shyly, offering a tentative smile to the large woman. 

"With pleasure, Lysse," Sif answered. "And you may call me Sif."

"It is hard to imagine a man not loving you," Lysse ventured. 

"Not for me, it isn't," Sif said. "Believe me. Well, I have interrupted your peace long enough. I have a message for you, from the AllMother. It appears something is to take place this afternoon in the audience chamber. She thought you might want to be there, as it concerns you."

"What?" dread crept back up Lysse's spine.

"I know not."

"Well then," Lysse tried to summon courage from the other woman, "I suppose I should go and meet it."

"Would you like a friend to accompany you?" Sif asked, almost hesitantly.

"Lady Sif, I can think of few things I would like more."

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best laid plans of mice and men... and gods often go awry.

KAs Lysse walked into the audience chamber she was silently grateful for the tall woman by her side. One look from Sif was enough to forge a pathway through the throngs of nobles gathered to bask in the reflected power of the Gods on the dais. The two ladies quickly made their way to the front of the hall, looks turning into whispers following them as people began to realize who Lysse was. It was a sensation she was neither used to or comfortable with, and she felt her footsteps begin to falter.

"Steady," Sif murmured to her under her breath. "Remember, they are easily led. Keep your chin up and your eyes calm and they will believe you the strongest maiden in Asgard."

That was easy for Sif to say, Lysse thought enviously, as the description seemed to actually apply to her companion. Still, she tried to copy the other woman's poise and confidence as they walked through the crowded room.

At the front of the long chamber, Odin sat on his throne with a frustrated grimace on his face. To one side of him stood Frigga, hands worrying with each other betraying the agitation that did not show on her serene face. In front of the couple stood their eldest son, red face matching his cape as his eyes glowed truculently. The recipient of Thor's thunderous looks was, of course, Lysse's own father. Njord seemed to carry all of the storm tossed waters of the sea that was his power in his person. Lysse could feel the just checked power roiling off of all three men standing above her, and she would not have been in Frigga's place for all the worlds.

And then, to the far side of the stage, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a sardonic tilt to his lips, as though watching a play rather than a display of primal egos about to erupt, stood Loki. Lysse tried to catch his eye, to find reassurance in the connection she shared with him, but he seemed unaware of her entry into the room. His attention remained fixed on the farce playing out before him.

"I say I will not!" Thor pronounced, hand straying to where his hammer hung at his side. "I mean no disrespect to the Lady, but she and I will not suit. I entreat you, father, and you Lord Njord, abandon this scheme."

"No disrespect?" Njord boomed, spittle flying from his lips. "You dare to claim this when you shame my daughter, and thus shame the Vanir, before all the gathered powers of all nine realms?"

"I shame no one," Thor insisted. "Name another girl of Vaneheim and I will consider your proposal, but the Lady Lyssette will never be my wife."

"I have no other daughter," Njord's voice had gone soft now, and Lysse found it all the more terrifying than his usual bluster. "Nor is there another maiden of her lineage of suitable age and availability to offer in her stead. I warn you, Odin, if weds her not it will be war."

Lysse felt as though the floor was falling out beneath her. How had it come to this? She was no one! While she was not naïve enough to believe that Njord's offence on her behalf was genuine, still there was something surreal about all of these figures, the most powerful beings in their universe, arguing over her fate.

"The words you have spoken are treason!" Thor declared, raising his hammer. "I will have your head for them!"

"ENOUGH!" Odin commanded, standing and silencing the growing tumult in the room. All eyes turned instinctively to him as he glared in turn at the pair of brawling men on the stage with him. "Thor! It is bad enough that you insult Njord's daughter so publicly, do not now add to your folly."

"So this is who you would crown king over all of us?" Njord hissed, glaring at Thor. "This prideful boy who lacks the manners of even the most lowly palace clerk? Who would raise a weapon on a royal guest in your hall, insult a gentle maid’s reputation publicly, and plunge the nine realms into war? Is this really your wisdom, Odin AllFather?"

"My lords," Loki finally spoke, pushing off the wall and taking a half step towards the sparring Gods, "surely we can find a way out of such a tangle. I am sure my brother has nothing but respect for our honored guest and his lovely daughter. He merely spoke without thinking, and surely regrets it."

"Do not presume to speak for me, brother," Thor growled at Loki. "While I have no ill will towards the girl I meant every word I said."

"I said enough," Odin snapped. "Thor, you disgrace me and your family with your every word. I was a fool to have thought you ready to assume the throne. Your actions are that of a petulant, spoiled child, not a king."

"But father!"

"SILENCE!"

"Perhaps we should all take a break," Frigga suggested tactfully, "until heads have cooled."

"There is no point, Frigga," Njord shook his head. "I am firm in my resolution. Odin, if you name this boy king, you declare war on Vaneheim. Now, if you will all excuse me, I believe my retinue and myself will be returning to our home world. We must prepare ourselves for whatever future awaits us."

"As you wish," Odin allowed, as Thor wordlessly voiced his disapproval.

"I will, of course, be taking my daughter with me," Njord added as an afterthought, eyes going for the first time to where Lysse stood at the foot of the dais.

"No!" she breathed, stepping backwards, eyes going large. "No, please."

"Odin, surely..." Frigga ventured.

"She is your child," Odin shrugged, looking at Njord. "We have no claim on her, since Thor has refused the union."

"Lady Lyssette," Loki spoke, descending the steps to claim her arm, "I know this must be a difficult position you find yourself in, so openly discussed before the masses. I apologize on behalf of my family and yours. But it is every child's duty to obey her father."

Lysse looked with stricken eyes at the man she trusted as her savior, only to be met with cool impassivity in his own bright gaze. She might as well be a stranger for all the warmth he was regarding her with.

"Prince Loki," Njord said with a small smile. "I will thank you to unhand my daughter. Do not think I am unaware that Thor is not the only one to have dishonored her during her stay on Asgard."

***

It was as though a long, cold knife had suddenly and skillfully been thrust into Loki's back.

Everything had been going so well. Thor had acted exactly as predicted, loudly decrying the attempt to match him with Lysse. It didn't hurt that he had spent the morning day-drinking with the Warriors Three, who had lost no time relating to him all of the rumors swirling around about how his intended had been publicly seen in his brother's embrace the very morning of her announcement as Thor’s future wife. The idea that everyone was sniggering at him behind his backs, calling him a cuckold by his own brother before the vows had even been said, was enough to drive an inebriated Thor into a near killing rage.

Njord, too, had played his hand exactly as they had planned. He proved inordinately skillful at baiting Thor just enough to illicit the worst of Thor's temper. All Loki had needed to do was sit back and watch, enjoying the spectacle of the blustering puppets dancing on his strings.

When Lysse came into the room it was all he could do to resist sharing his grin with her. He knew his little Sparrow was uncomfortable with conflict, but if only she knew every barbed word, every hissed threat, was bringing them one step closer to the aim he had schemed so hungrily for. Thor disinherited and Loki ascendant, with Lysse the ultimate, beautiful prize for all of his efforts. He kept his mask in place, not reacting to the entreating looks she threw in his direction. Soon enough she would be his officially, and he could comfort her with more than looks shared in a crowded room. 

And then came the blade. Slid between his ribs in the moment of his triumph. The smug look on Njord's face as he accused Loki of dishonoring Lysse made his blood turn cold and boil at one and the same time.

"What is the meaning of this?" Loki demanded as Njord tore his hand from Lysse's arm.

"Do you think I am deaf and blind both?" Njord asked. "That the gossip of the court regarding you and my daughter, so openly bandied about that her name has become a byword, has been lost on me? I admit, I did not want to believe it, almost could not believe it, coming as it did under the eye of our most dutiful AllMother. But too many have repeated the tale to me for it to be anything but the truth."

"What tale?" Lysse breathed, eyes so big and frightened that Loki longed to take her in his arms and teleport them both away from here.

"Pour innocent kitten," Njord sighed, eyes filled with false fatherly concern. "Tales of you, and how you have suffered at the hands of the sons of Odin."

"That is a lie!" Loki snarled.

"Is it?" Njord smiled cruelly at him. "Can you deny that you kept my daughter, a princess in all but title, as a scullery maid in your quarters for days on end? That you seduced her to your bed, used her to slake your lust when she was not scouring your floors? That you then, when you heard I was coming to save her, paraded her about the halls covered in bruises you had left on her delicate, pale skin, mauling her in public, displaying her disgrace to any with eyes to see?"

"It was my fault!" Lysse stammered out, shaking her head wildly. "I was in hiding. I entered into service to escape from  _you!_ Prince Loki saved me!"

"Save you from what?" Njord pounced.

Loki saw Lysse draw back, not wanting to admit that he had saved her from being raped by the palace guard. Naturally, such an admission would only add fuel to Njord's assumed rage.

"I have heard of this phenomenon," Njord said, looking to the audience at large. "They say a captive can become enamored of her abductor, to the point where she denies her own family. I never thought to see it happen to my own dearest daughter."

"That is not what is happening!" Lysse insisted, anger taking over the helplessness in her eyes. "I am in love with Prince Loki. That is why I stayed in his rooms. That is why Prince Thor refuses to wed me. They are not the cause of the insults done to me, you are! I will go nowhere with you! Lady Frigga, I beg you now for sanctuary."

"Granted," Frigga said, before Odin or Njord had a chance to reply, as Lysse ran to stand beside her. 

"You will do no such thing," Njord growled, moving to grab her.

In a single, agile leap Lady Sif was up on the dais and standing, sword drawn, between Lysse and her father. Loki fumed internally. This was all wrong! He was supposed to be her savior. He should be the one standing between her and danger, not Sif, not his mother. How had all of this gotten out of hand so quickly, when it all had been going so well?

"You would take my child away from me?" Njord demanded of Odin, ignoring Frigga entirely.

"The Queen has given her word," Odin did not sound particularly happy about it. "I will not unsay it for her."

"So, the throne of Asgard is ruled by your women," Njord sneered. "Why does this not surprise me? I knew long ago you were no true man."

"You have heard the girl," Odin said, spine stiffening. "She does not want to go with you. We have free will in these realms, so long as it contradicts no laws. The girl chooses to remain with the AllMother, so be it."

"You have turned my daughter into a whore!" Njord screeched, eyes loosing sanity. "A whore for your sons to play with. I will have vengeance for this, Odin Boreson!"

"You speak treason, Njord. I know you are in distress, so I will not have you seized and thrown in the dungeon, but I warn you. My patience is not limitless. Leave. Now."

"You have taken something precious from me. So be it. I will return the favor."

A grey flash spread across Loki's vision. Acting on instinct, he threw himself to where Lysse stood, wrapping her in his strong arms and the protective power of his seidr, his only thought keeping Njord from spiriting her away. As the blinding light faded, however, it seemed he had been mistaken. It had not been Lysse that Njord had been after. His darling Sparrow stood trembling in his arms, safe and close as he could hold her. It was the spot next to them that stood empty.

The spot where, until a moment before, his mother had stood. 

  


 


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Njord has taken Frigga - what will Loki and the others do to get her back?

The chaos that erupted in the room when it became clear that the Queen had vanished along with the Vanir was but a dim hum in the back of Loki's mind. He was deaf to everything but the voices in his own head. The ones screaming at him that this was all his fault. That he had failed to protect the one person who had sheltered him his whole life. Who had loved him, nurtured him, listened to him without judgement or censure. Everything good in his life he owed to his mother, and he had forsaken her, chosen another woman to protect instead of the one who had given him life. If it had not been for Lysse and her father, Frigga would be standing next to him, proud and strong as ever. As he felt Lysse trembling in his arms, with rage in his blood and death in his heart, he hated her almost, for a moment.

"Loki, I am so sorry," he heard her whisper. "We must contact him, this instant, and offer me in trade to get her back."

Blinking back the rage that had threatened to consume him, Loki looked down at the delicate face tilted up towards his. There were tears standing in Lysse's eyes, but a firm resolve showed on her features. It was not an empty offer, he realized. She truly would give herself, without hesitation, to the man she hated most in the world, who had taken every last vestige of security from her life, in order to save a woman she barely knew. Loki felt the red clear from before his eyes as he drew strength from her. Wordlessly he buried his face in her hair, kissing the top of her head as he breathed in her scent. It was not her fault. He knew that. It was his own. He had plotted with Njord, stoked his rage and played into his vanity. It was Loki who had been the unwitting architect of this entire debacle. It was not enough for him to secure Lysse for himself, to keep Thor off the throne. No, he had had to push things farther; to press his own claim before the time was right. This was the result of his covetousness, his jealousy. 

"You have nothing to be sorry about, darling," he assured her, meaning it. "You are not responsible for the actions of a suicidal madman who you barely even know."

"Suicidal?" she questioned.

"He has stolen the wife of Odin," Loki said with a mirthless laugh, "do you really think he will live to see next week?"

Slowly the world around him was coming back. Loud voices, screaming from every direction, created a cacophony of sound. Sparks of blue lightning were flashing around Thor's beefy fingers as he shouted at their father. The people in the audience chamber were pulsing with panic. A portion of them had fled in terror, but still more crowded close to the dais, shouting for action, to take vengeance on the behalf of their beloved AllMother.

"We must get you out of here," Loki told Lysse, feeling the hostility in the air rise.

"What? No! Loki, I want to help."

"Sparrow, listen to me," Loki said quickly, drawing Lysse to the far side of the stage. "I do not hold you in any way responsible for what has happened here today. No sane person would. But the mood in this hall is no longer sane. Frigga is perhaps the most loved person in all of Asgard. The public and the nobles alike will demand blood for this, and I will not have it be yours."

She was not safe, that much was certain. Even Loki had blamed her in a moment of madness. If he, who loved her, was capable of such an emotion, what would the rest of crowd do with no other outlet for their hate? Quickly Loki scanned their immediate area. He needed someone he could trust, but she had been taken from them. The irony of it was not lost on him. His eyes finally found the person he sought, and sensing his gaze she walked quickly to them.

"Lady Sif," he said, voice more serious than was his wont with his childhood playmate. "I would ask a favor of you."

"Now?" her voice betrayed her combined disbelief and annoyance.

"Now," he affirmed. "You have acted today in friendship to Lady Lyssette. Let me ask you - have these events changed that feeling in you?"

"No," she answered swiftly. "My Lady, please, be assured. Njord's madness is no fault of yours."

Loki breathed an inward sigh of relief.

"In that case," he said, as Lysse gave Sif a wavering smile, "I would ask you to get her out of here. You see what is happening. It will not be long before they all begin looking for someone to blame. While she might by fierce, my Lady is no warrior. And I will be called upon to attend a council as soon as Odin has remembered how to think."

"Swear to me that you had nothing to do with this," Sif said, looking at him hard, "and I will do as you ask."

Loki looked at the dark haired woman. She had never trusted him, and not without reason. Still, she could be reasonable if he could just keep his temper under control.

"Lady Sif," he said, meeting her eye, "I swear to you, I did not, nor never would, conspire in anything that would put my mother at risk. I love Frigga and would die to protect her. Will die to avenge her should anything have befallen her. And I will make those that took her weep for death before I am finished with them."

"Very well," Sif nodded, sensing the truth in his words. Of the many insults she and the others had hurled at him over the early centuries, "mamma's boy" had been one of their favorites. She would not be slow to believe his concern for his mother now. "My Lady, if you will come with me."

"No, I want to help!" Lysse insisted again.

"My Lady, Loki is right," Sif told her. "It will get ugly here very soon. You can do nothing now, but if you are safe and well there may be something you can do anon. I know it is not easy to wait, but sometimes it is the most helpful thing we can do."

"Very well," Lysse did not sound happy as she looked up at him.

"Stay safe, love," he told her, kissing her and past caring who saw. "I will find you when a course of action has been determined."

As Sif led her out of the room, Loki turned his attention to where his father and brother stood, with some of the other primary councilors, all yelling at once. Of course no one had thought to look for him, a sullen part of his mind thought. Why would they? Odin was silent, which could not be a good thing. His eyes looked lost, almost vague, and he was clutching his left arm with his right.

"I should have killed him when I had the chance!" Thor boomed, crackling sparks shooting off his flexing fingers. "He was a threat, and now he has mother! I say we storm the Vanehiem and put it to the Sword all of them!"

"And what of your mother's safety?" wheezed an older advisor. "Do you care nothing for her? Not to mention the millions of innocents who live there. Will you destroy them all over one man's folly?"

"Folly! Their ruler stole the Queen of Asgard! I call that an act of war!"

"An act committed by one man, not an entire race!"

Loki's eyes went back and forth at the various men circled around the throne where Odin sat, slumped into himself. He had expected his father to be the loudest voice in the room, bellowing to wake the dead. Why then was he so still, letting others erupt around him? An uneasy feeling besetting him, Loki strode to where his father sat and knelt by the throne.

"Father?" he asked, "Father, what would you have us do?"

"Save..." Odin's voice was faint, a mere whisper. "Save... your mother... save her..."

With that, he sunk down, eyes closing, and slid from the throne. Loki stared at the man who until that moment he would have described as invulnerable. It took a moment for the sight before his eyes to register, for him to stand up and call out.

"Guards!" he cried. "Guards, please!"

If it had been chaos before, it was pandemonium now. He hoped that Sif had gotten Lysse safely back to her rooms. He had already lost his mother, now his father was down. Loki could not afford to loose anyone else he loved.

***

Lysse sat in the center of the bed, blanket wrapped tightly around herself, and felt extraordinarily small. She knew why he had sent her away. Even if she had not understood, Sif had reassured her several times on their way here. Still, it did not silence the voice in her head that offered the view that he simply did not want to have to look at the person responsible for his mother's abduction. 

If she had gone along with Njord as he had requested, all would now be well. Not for her, perhaps, but what was the life of one nobody in comparison with safety of all nine realms and the AllMother to boot? She should have gracefully acquiesced to his demand, and trusted to Loki to find a way to free her. She had no doubt that he would be able to do so. Instead, she had acted like a child in the midst of a temper tantrum and put her own needs ahead of all else. No wonder he did not want to so much as clap eyes on her.

As she grew more and more impatient with herself, Lysse thought about going out to talk with Sif. The other woman had insisted on standing guard outside the door. But Lysse did not really want to be reassured just then. Or at least, not by Sif. She liked the warrior woman, and was happy that they had taken the first tentative steps towards a friendship, but it was not she who Lysse craved but her dark prince. She knew instinctively that nothing but Loki's presence would be likely to give her peace at this moment.

Personal companionship ruled out, Lysse decided to turn instead to what had been the most constant companion of her life, and rose from the bed to walk with bare feet to the study. She would not, most certainly not, touch the forbidden shelves or the books there on. She had learned her lesson, and did not intent to make that mistake again. Still, there were plenty of other spell books strewn around the room. Perhaps there was something in one of them that could help. Collecting as many of them as her arms could carry, she carted them back into the bedroom and tossed them onto the large mattress before climbing back on herself. She felt closer to Loki here, on his bed. She could smell him on the sheets, and being wrapped in his blanket was the closest she was like to come for some time to being held in his embrace.

She was well into the third volume of spells when her eyes drifted close and she finally gave in to urge, born of an exhausting day, to drift off into slumber. She was therefore started to no small degree when the door to the room burst open and a wild looking Loki stormed into the room, glowing knives at the ready.

"Sparrow!" he breathed, rushing to the bed to enfold her in his arms.

"I told you she was safe," came the long suffering voice of Lady Sif from the outer room.

"I sought you in your room," he told her, breath coming hard and fast. "The door had been knocked in and the belongings scattered. I thought... I feared..."

Loki seemed unable to finish a sentence and contented himself with holding her so tightly to him that it was almost painful. Lysse couldn't bring herself to care. He was with her, wanted her, and that was all that mattered.

"I thought she would be safer here," Sif said from the doorway. "Only the truly determined would climb all of those stairs. And I assume you have some sort of protection spell around these rooms."

"Is that why you didn't come in?" Lysse asked, squirming a bit in Loki's arms so that she could breath and speak.

"It stood to reason you would be allowed in," Sif replied with a shrug, "given his... obvious feelings for you. I was not, however, so sure about my own fait should I enter with out his presence."

"You were wise," Loki said with a little laugh. "And I will never be able to repay you for guarding her. Now, go away."

"Loki!" Lysse chided him.

"No, no," Sif said quickly, backing out the door, "I have no desire to see what is obviously coming next. My Lady, feel free to call on me again should the need arrive."

"You are really safe," Loki breathed, hands tracing her face and roaming over her body, as if trying to reassure himself.

As Lysse looked in his eyes, she was shocked at the level of weariness she saw. She did not think she had ever, even after his time caught in the dream, seen him looking as lost and tired as he did now.

"What has happened?" she asked, desperate for news.

"Father has gone into the Odin Sleep," he sighed, rubbing one hand across his eyes. "Apparently he has put it off for some time. It was one of the reasons he was in such a hurry for Thor's coronation, that the line of succession be secure. It seems the shock of Mother's abduction was one shock too many, and it came on him suddenly in the aftermath."

"Will awaken?" she asked, uncertain.

"He should. He always has before. Still, it's different this time. The preparations were not made, and of course Mother is not here to watch over him."

Lysse heard the small catch in his voice as he mentioned his mother's name, and her heart ached for the small boy she saw in the man before her. She knew that Loki and Frigga were incredibly close. He must be feeling her loss on the most primal level imaginable.

"So what happens now?" she was half afraid to know the answer.

"Thor is king," Loki said, with a self mocking look she couldn't quite trace the cause of. "At least until Odin wakes. The fool wanted to strike out for Vanehiem at once, swords blazing, and kill one and all in retribution for Njord's crime. To teach them a lesson, he said, as though anyone would be left to learn it. Fortunately, there remain a few others with some semblance of sense, and we were able to convince him to delay at least long enough to call up our forces so that a plan might feasibly be drawn up."

"You look exhausted, My Prince," Lysse said, as he lay back, taking her with him. 

"I am that," he admitted. "I will have to go back soon - we are merely on a break for food - but I needed to be sure you were safe. I have lost so much, I couldn't loose you too."

"You will not," she said, eyes welling at the pain in his voice. "Loki, you never could. I am yours, now and forever."

She leaned over and kissed his lips. She had intended it as a chaste, comforting gesture, but it seemed Loki had other thoughts in mind. The moment her lips met his, she was suddenly swept into a needy, desperate embrace. Loki barely gave her room to breath as he delved into her mouth with his tongue, hands grasping her hair, pulling her clothing from her body with none of his usual finesse. It was as though he sought to forget everything that had happened in the last hours in their embrace. 

As Lysse felt Loki finally give up on unlacing her, a flick of his hand sent her entire dress away. She gasped at the chill, but was quickly covered by his body. Her own hands reached down and opened his pants, pulling out his already hard cock and stroking it twice before lying back and feeling it press against her opening. With a grunt he buried himself inside her, holding there for a moment before beginning to move with fierce intensity. The leather and metal of his armor scraped over her naked flesh, surely adding to the bruises that already covered her body. Something about being completely naked while he was fully clothed added to the heady feeling of submission she felt as he took her with an almost unthinking urgency.

"Loki," she moaned, floating along the river of desire he created deep inside her. 

"My Sparrow," he rasped, biting her ear. "You must never leave me. Never. Stay with me, love, always. Be mine."

"Always," she gasped, meaning it with everything she was. "Always yours, Loki."

With her words, she felt him increase his pace, one hand coming down to play at her clit. Waves of pleasure hit her as his body drove her over the edge of the cliff, and then plummeted down after her, calling out her name as he rode out the last desire deep inside her body.

"I am so sorry, love," he told her, rolling off her body and seeing the marks from his armor on her skin.

"Don't be," she smiled at him. "I love you, Loki."

"I love you, Lyssette," he answered, melting her. "And I meant it. You must never leave me."

"I meant it too," she said. "And Loki, we will find a way to rescue your mother."

And just like that, like the little boy she had sensed in him before, her prince buried his head in her shoulder and wept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and forth a few times about having Odin fall into the Odin sleep. However, since this takes place at the same time the Loki would have discovered his lineage in the original MCU timeline, it seemed appropriate that a major shock such as Frigga being taken would trigger the same reaction.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Thor and the council can't come up with a plan, it is time for others to take matters into their own hands!

"I'm afraid I must get back," he said, swiping the back of his hand across his eyes as he pulled himself upright.

Lysse looked at Loki, trying so hard to regain his princely composure, and ached for him internally. He was such an emotional man, she thought, so driven by his passions and feelings. It must be such a strain to keep all that feeling hidden from the world, to maintain that hard outer shell that Asgard demanded from her heroes. She wondered how often he had sat in these rooms, alone, letting out the emotions he had to keep bottled up for everyone else. She vowed to herself that he would never have to do that again. That she would always be there for him, ready to love him through his fears and hurt.

"Forgive me, love," he said, straightening his shoulders. 

"There is nothing to forgive," she assured him, forcing him to meet her eyes. "Loki, look at me. You never have to hide your feelings from me. I want to share them with you, the happy and the sad. You have helped me through so much, allow me, please love, to help you as well."

"I do not deserve you, Sparrow," he said, mouth quirking in a half smile. 

"That is rather for me to decide, isn't it?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Someone is getting cheeky," he laughed, kissing her nose. "We will have to do something about that when I have the time."

"I look forward to it," she smiled, feeling the improbable stirring in her midsection. How was he able to arouse her so soon after sating her?

"You will be safe in here," he told her, rising and adjusting his armor. "Sif was correct, the rooms are warded. It would take a powerful magician to break through my spell work. I do not believe anyone currently on Asgard could manage it."

"Do you think you will be able to keep Thor from committing genocide?" she asked quickly, as she saw his mind fill in that the one Asgardian who could had been taken.

"Possibly," he shrugged. "He was a bit drunk earlier. If he has managed to eat something, to calm down a bit... It is hard to tell. I will do my best. I fear there is no one else at present who has influence over him, so it is left to me. As though there is nothing better for me to do with my time and energy."

"What would you do, if given time?" she asked, hoping to take some of the weight off of his strong shoulders.

"Find a way of freeing her that did not end in mass murder," he laughed bitterly. "I fear we are bound to use a hammer where a needle is warranted."

"I have been looking for a spell," she confessed shyly.

"Is that why our bed looks like a library?" he asked with a slight smile.

"I'm afraid I haven't found anything yet," she sighed, trying to tamp down how happy the term  _our bed_ made her. "I will keep searching."

"I welcome anything you find," he said, not sounding like he held out much hope. "There is a small chest in the study, love. It contains food and wine. Make sure you eat something. I will be back late this evening, do not open the door to anyone until then."

"I'm sure no one will bother me all the way up here," she smiled, standing to kiss him farewell.

"Humor me," he replied, face serious as he bent to thoroughly kiss her. 

He had been gone for a bit when she wandered into the study and made herself a plate of fruit and bread from the food store he had spoken of. Bringing that and a glass of wine with her, she trod back into the bedroom. She felt a bit naughty in doing so, knowing how her fastidious Prince loathed the idea of crumbs in his bed, but it was the room she felt most secure in. She decided that it was worth the possible spanking she would received.

As she sat down and began flipping again through a book, Lysse felt a slight prickle on the back of her neck. Looking around the room, she tried to ascertain the origin of the sensation. It was not hostile, shew was sure of it, but there was still something uncanny happening. It was then that her eyes alighted on the mirror opposite the bed. A fog was slowly descending down the glass, clouding the surface. As she watched with big eyes, letters began to form in the fog.

 _"Birch Tree"_ the writing spelled out _"Garden Grove. Bramwell's. Hurry. F."_

Springing to her feet, Lysse grabbed a pen and paper and immediately copied down the writing on the glass, terrified it would fade. Looking at what she had written, she came to a simple, unavoidable conclusion. Frigga was contacting them. She had to get to Loki.

She knew he had insisted she stay in the tower, but surely this was an extraordinary situation. Pulling on a fresh dress from the wardrobe (and sparing a quick smile for the fact that her clothing still hung in his room), Lysse ran into the study to look for the text. With a sinking realization, she spied Bramwell's book of spells right where she feared it would be - on the forbidden shelf, next to the terrible book that had led them to such danger before. She hesitated for a moment. She did not  _know_ the message was from the captive AllMother. But who else would send a message - who else would be able to send a message - to Loki's chambers? It was not as though she meant to open the book after all. She just needed to bring it as she went in search for Loki.

With a deep breath to steady her jangly nerves, Lysse grabbed the book off the shelf and clutched it under her arm. Slipping into a pair of comfortable shoes, not bothering to check her appearance, she headed out the door. She was going against multiple orders, she knew. He might be, no would be angry with her. But it might also save the Queen's life. In the balance of things, there was simply no choice. A determined look on her face, she set out down the stairs.

***

 "You would have us abandon Mother?" Thor demanded, glaring at him balefully. "Leave her at the mercy of that fiend?"

"No, not abandon," Loki said, teeth grinding themselves almost to powder. "And when have you known Mother to be at anyone's mercy? Thor, you need to think. If we go in there, swords swinging, we put her very life at stake."

"You think it is not at stake now?"

"I think that, as detestable as he is, Njord has a... a fondness for her. I do not think he will kill her,  _unless we force his hand_."

In truth, Loki thought that the Vanir's plans for Frigga were far worse than death. There was a covetousness in the God's eyes when he looked at her. It was to Loki's shame that he recognized that look. He was certain that at least part of the hatred in which Njord held Odin sprung from a jealousy not of the throne, but of the Queen. What would happen to him, he wondered, how would his soul, mind, and heart twist and corrupt if Lysse were to choose another? At the very thought of her being betrothed to Thor Loki had felt a darkness creep into him. If his Sparrow were to welcome that betrothal, what would it have done to him? To watch her find happiness with another, to become his queen? It did not bare thinking of.

"What would you have us do then, brother?" Thor asked in a mocking tone. "Write letters? Politely ask for the return of the Queen of Asgard? And if he refuses, what then? Shall we just turn over the throne to him and let him have it all?"

"You know me better than that," Loki sighed, tamping down his anger. "I do not say we surrender, I just say that there is a place for brute strength, and then there is a place for cunning."

"Cunning," Thor spit the word. "Another word for cowardous!"

Loki snarled at the implication, half rising to his feet. They had been at this for hours. The Einherjar would be assembled by morning. It was Thor's intention to march them into Vaneheim as soon as their roster was complete. Loki, along with two other advisors, had been beating their heads against the wall trying to convince him to at least attempt to parlay with Njord first, to buy them time to plan. Arguing with Thor had all the pleasantry of arguing with a mountain. The other Lords had finally gone to seek their beds, and only Loki remained to try to bang some sense into his brother back in Thor's chambers.

A banging on the door stopped the ill-thought rejoinder that had been about to spring unbidden from his lips. 

"What?" Thor boomed, turning his angry glare at the large door to the chamber.

Hesitantly the door opened and a blond head poked itself inside.

"Ah, I see you are both still in one piece," Fandral said, surprise in his voice.

"This is no time for jests," Thor snapped at his friend. "What do you want."

Loki was shocked. Thor was rarely so terse with his companions. It seemed only Loki who bore the brunt of his anger. Largely because Loki was the only one to ever try to constrain him. Fandral, Volstagg, Hogun, Even Sif were all only too eager to go off following Thor on one of his fool's errands. It fell to Loki to be voice of reason, keeping them from hurtling to a certain death.

"My Lord, there is one here who would speak with the two of you," Fandral replied, his surprise evident by his formal use of address.

"I told you we were not to be disturbed," Thor barked.

"I know," Fandral said, entering into the room. 

"Then why?"

"Because," Fandral turned, much to Loki's shock, and looked at him instead of Thor, "I believe you should see the lady who waits without."

Eyebrows drawing together, Loki rose from his chair and brushed past Fandral. There, standing with a book clutched to her chest, was Lysse.

"What is the meaning of this?" Loki asked, staring at her. 

"Forgive me, my prince," she said, big eyes entreating his. "I didn't mean to disturb you. But there is something I must discuss with you."

"Loki, by all the stars," Thor groaned, "send your girl away and let's get back to our plans."

"A moment, brother," Loki insisted.

Taking Lysse by the shoulder, he steered her out of Thor's rooms and into the hall, closing the door on Thor and Fandral.

"Sparrow," he hissed, "I told you to stay in the tower! What are you doing here? And what did you do to Fandral?"

"He wasn't going to let me in," she explained, a guilty look on her face. "I tried explaining to him it was an emergency, but he insisted you were not to be disturbed. So I... well..."

"You enchanted him," Loki said, a disbelieving chuckle to his voice. "Oh, Sparrow, I applaud the advancement your studies have made, but this really isn't the time."

"I didn't do it on a lark," she told him, sounding slightly offended. "Loki, I think your mother contacted me!"

"What?" Suddenly all attention, Loki stared at her. "Frigga contacted you? How?"

"Well, in all fairness, I believe she was trying to contact you," Lysse amended. "The mirror in your bedroom, a message appeared on it. Here I copied it down."

Loki took the sheaf of paper from her and read the note she had copied three times over. Slowly, the icy grip that had been tightening around his heart began to thaw just the slightest bit.

"Do you know what it means?" she asked, fretfully.

"I believe so," he answered, mind racing. "We have spent the larger part of the night debating how to retrieve her from Vaneheim. Now, as everyone knows, the simplest way to get to other realms is Bifrost. It is Thor's plan to march our army over the bridge and lay siege."

"But if you go that way, Njord is sure to see you coming," Lysse said.

"Amazing how everyone grasps that point except our illustrious king," Loki replied, sarcastically. "Yes, he is sure to see us, and to be ready with an army of his own. Now, what is less known is that there are other ways... secret ways known only to a few, to travel between worlds. I may know of few of these myself."

"Imagine my surprise," she deadpanned.

"I'm sure," he smiled, amazed at his capacity to do so. "I could, with some effort extended, manage to get us unseen to Alfheim, Midgard, or Jotunheim."

"But not to Vaneheim."

"No," he confirmed. "Which has been the cause of a great deal of frustration for me of late. However, it seems that while my knowledge was lacking, it was not so for everyone."

"You think Frigga was suggesting a path from here to Vaneheim?" Lysse asked, excitement in her tone.

"I do," he nodded.

"Then why don't you sound pleased anymore?" she asked.

"You are too observant, Sparrow," he sighed. "I will be more relieved than I can say if the birch tree really is the start of a pathway to Vaneheim. It is the second part of the note that gives me pause."

"Bramwell's," she filled in. "But Loki, I brought it! I know, it was on the forbidden shelf, but I swear I didn't open it! I only took it to bring to you!"

"I trust you darling," he assured her, fingers brushing across her face fondly. "But Bramwell's is not an ordinary spell book. It has... given me problems until now."

"Why?"

"Because it was written by a couple, husband and wife. The spells were intended for them to perform together. I cannot complete one, successfully, by myself."

"But that is no problem at all!" she insisted.

"It might be," he shook his head. "I do not know what condition Frigga might be in, if she will be able to complete so powerful a spell as those contained in the book."

"Then why don't-"

"No!" he interrupted before she could finish.

"You didn't even let me -"

"I know what you were going to say," he cut her off again. "I am not taking you. I refuse to put you in that sort of danger!"

"You would not be putting me into it," she argued. "I would be choosing to go myself!"

"I am your Prince and I forbid it!"

"You would risk your mother's life?" she shouted back at him. "Just because you don't have faith in me?"

"It has nothing to do with having faith in you," he could feel his frustration mounting. "I cannot risk another person I love! Not you. Not ever, Sparrow."

"I am not a broken bird for you to fix!" she insisted. "Besides, your mother trusted me!"

"What makes you say that," he scoffed.

"She knew about the book, didn't she? The difficulties it poses?"

"She did," he said cautiously.

"And yet she told you to bring it. What does that tell you?"

"That she believed she would be able to assist me," he replied stubbornly.

"You know that's not it," she growled.

"I know nothing of the sort! Do not presume to tell me how my mother thinks! Now go back to the tower and stay there!"

"I am not some fairy tale princess to keep locked up for her own safety!" Lysse snapped. "I want to help!"

Frustration radiating from her, Lysse threw the heavy book at Loki. As his hand shot out to deflect it, a small slip of paper fluttered out of its pages and fell to the ground. Not thinking, Loki bent down to retrieve it, glaring at her as he did so. As he lifted the small sheet of white, he saw a well known, elegant hand had written on the page.

"I am glad you have finally met your match," the writing said. "I look forward to seeing what the two of you can do with this book. I love you, my son."

Loki's froze, mouth falling to the floor, as he stared at the message. It was as though she was speaking to him across the realms. Which, he realized, was exactly what she had been doing. Closing his eyes for a moment, Loki summoned her image. Calm, loving, trusting, fierce. Who else did that remind him of? Well, perhaps not calm, he amended. Still, the comparison was not without merit. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes again and looked at the beautiful, determined woman standing across from him, hands on hips and defiant set to her jaw.

"Very well," he said at last. "Let's go and get her back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently working on three fics (not quite sure how that happened), this, Personalities Within, and Protection, so I will be rotating which one I write for. Chapters should be coming out every few days or so.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and sharing your thoughts with me!!!


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Lysse search for the path to rescue Frigga

Lysse stayed as quiet as possible, half afraid that Loki would change his mind at any moment and send her back to the tower to sit and wait like a good little girl. He himself was muttering as he walked, long strides that forced her to trot in order to keep up with him. She was fairly certain she heard the words “disobedient strumpet” and “stubborn vixen” uttered under his breath, but she decided now was not the time to take him to task. As long as she was allowed to accompany him, to attempt to help right the wrong done by her despicable father, then let her prince mutter all he wanted. 

They emerged from the castle by a small door she had never noticed before in a rarely used hall. It didn’t surprise her at all when Loki materialized a small silver key from his seemingly bottomless magic pockets and unlocked it with a click. With an over-elaborate court bow he ushered her out into a picture book garden. 

The stars were bright above them as Loki slipped off his cape and draped it about her shoulders to ward off the cold. She smiled in thanks at him and hugged the soft fabric, warm from his body, about herself. As if against his will she saw the tiniest hint of a begrudging smile tilt up his lips. 

“It’s lovely here, isn’t it?” He asked, stating the obvious. “When I was a child, this was one of my refuges. No one else seemed to know it existed except for Mother. I would come here when Thor and the others were making life unbearable and pretend that I had escaped to another world. Ah, the irony.”

”It is beautiful,” she agreed. 

The starlight and nearly full moon made the birch grove look silver in the night. A soft breeze rustled the leaves, and if she were in a fanciful mood she could almost hear them talking to each other. Tiny flowers dotted bushes forming a straight path to the center of the trees where they opened up to form an almost perfect semicircle. At the apex of this was a tree larger by far than all the rest. It was easily the biggest birch Lysse had ever seen.

”One day Sparrow,” Loki said, an otherworldly tone to his voice, “When all this is settled and the world moves on, I will bring you back to the garden.”

”I would like that,” she sighed, but he barely seemed to hear her. 

“I will lay you down on my cloak,” he continued, eyes intense as they stared into hers, “and bare you to the moon so that she may witness the moment I put my child in you.”

Lysse felt her jaw drop to the ground as his words washed over her. The meaning of what he said sent shivers of desire stronger than anything she had ever felt coursing through her body. Loki’s own eyes were completely black as he watched the blush stain her cheeks. She wanted to stop time, to stay in this moment forever; the moment she realized that he really did want her not just for now, but to be bound to him irrevocably.

”You... you think about that?” She asked in a whisper. 

“About a family of my own,” he smiled almost sadly. “You, swollen bellied and glowing as I sing to the child we’ve already produced on my lap? Teaching our happily growing brood the magic that will be all the stronger for the double inheritance of it? Or taking you, over and over until that first little life finds root within you and begins to quicken? I think about it all, darling. I never did before. I never thought I would find someone who want that with me. Who I would want forever.”

Lysse swallowed to chase away the dryness in her mouth. She had never seen anything as beautiful as him in that moment. A tear forming in her eye, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his lips. It was sweet and full of promise, but all too soon she pulled away. 

“I love you,” she told him, voice breaking. “I want all that too.”

”Well,” he said with a slight smirk, “that makes it all much easier. I was prepared to tie you to the ground with magic and not let you up until I had convinced you, but you spared me hours of needless labor.”

”I could pretend to resist you,” she said hopefully. “No need to give up such a marvelous plan just over a technicality.”

”No, Sparrow,” he said after his initial spark of amusement at her suggestion. “Please, for my sanity’s sake, never even pretend to wish to leave me. I fear what I would become if you ever tried.”

Wordlessly she reached her small hand up to caress his cheek, smiling as he turned his face into her touch and kissed her palm. 

“Enough of all that,” he said roughly, shaking himself out of the revery. “Let’s see what we can find here.”

As Lysse had not a clue what they were looking for her function was mostly to hold the book and keep out of Loki’s way as he ran his hands over the large tree, sending out the occasional testing tendril of power. She realized she was holding her breath in anticipation and let it out slowly. The wait seemed agonizing as he poked and prodded the bark and branches. At last, just when she began to give up hope, Loki lifted his head from where it had lain, pressed against the trunk, and smiled. 

“How are you at climbing trees, my love?” He asked. 

Lysse felt the slow, triumphant smile spread across her face. It seemed her supposed misspent youth (as decried by her grandmother at whit's end) was about to be productive after all.

"There is not a tree in this realm I cannot reach the top of," she grinned, sparking an answering gleam in his eyes.

"Very well, Sparrow," he laughed, "toss me the book and up we go!"

"Nonsense," replied, tucking the spell book under her arm. "I would feel oddly off balance without reading material clutched in one hand!"

With her words, she accepted a hand up from him to reach the first branch and began scaling the silver tree like one who had spent their life among the foliage. Which was more or less true for a large portion of her life. One of the perks of being brought up by older relatives was that they were not a agile as younger guardians might have been. Because of this, Lysse had often been able to avoid their scrutiny simply by finding hard to reach places in which to indulge in her preferred activity. Her favorite of these hiding places had been the upper reaches of the trees in the various environs of the campus. It made her feel more adventurous somehow, more like one of the heroines in the novels her grandfather scoffed off as "frivolous" to enjoy them perched atop a tree. There she could be an Elven maiden, or an outlaw bent on escaping the corrupt sheriff's clutches.

The tree they were climbing now, along with being far larger around than any birch she had previously encountered, was also by far the tallest she had ever climbed. As she worked her way ever higher, she began to feel the weight of the claim she had boasted. Lysse did not let herself look down, for fear that panic or vertigo would set in, and instead concentrated squarely on the bark in front of her face, the next branch she must reach for. The climb seemed to go on for hours almost, and she could sense her arms tiring. Secretly she was thankful for Loki's presence a few limbs beneath her, a calming force when her heart began to beat faster.

So caught up was she now in the methodical rhythm of reach, grab, pull, secure, that when her hand hit soft green earth she almost fell onto it. In a dizzying twist of her reality and center of gravity, the world seemed to shift upon it's axis 180 degrees, and what she had thought to be the ever nearing sky turned out to be a grassy expanse of lawn. The garden from which they had departed was the dark night sky, filled with stars far different than any she was used to. With a gasp of pure panic, Lysse let fall the book and lay flat, struggling to accept that they had just passed into a different realm.

"Welcome to Vanehiem, Lyssette," Loki pronounced in hushed tones. "Your ancestral home."

***

He was proud of his Sparrow, Loki thought with a smile. Certainly, he had been angry at first that she had disobeyed him. He was beginning to think that his little darling would never be the dutifully biddable girl he had first taken her for. The thought crossed his mind that perhaps this was in large part why he loved her, but that was a topic for another day. Yes, she had taken another forbidden book, and yes she had put herself in danger by leaving their rooms, but he had to admit he was glad. A short time ago he had been certain that both Frigga and Asgard were doomed, to a generation of war if not destruction. Now, due to the  ingenuity of the two women he loved best in all the world they might be able to avert such a fait.

She was true to her word when it came to climbing, scampering through the branches like some woodland creature born amongst the leaves. Loki tried to keep his eyes and his mind on the business at hand, but it was damnably hard when his line of sight kept him staring distractedly up her loose fitting skirt. The legs displayed were a site to behold, and he smiled to himself as he enjoyed the view. 

He felt the axis shift half way up the tree, but didn't say anything. Lysse was not as experienced as he with this type of magic, and he was not sure how it would effect her. He did not want her to loose her center and come to harm when she realized the world had literally turned upside down. He was thankful he had bitten his tongue when, some time later, she came to realization on her own and immediately fell to the ground, seemingly disoriented by the switch.

"Just breath, Sparrow," he whispered to her after doing a neatly graceful flip to exit from the tree onto the ground near her flailed out body. "You will adjust in a moment."

"How was that possible?" she asked, eyes wide and clearly still shaky from the experience.

"My guess?" he answered, quickly scanning their immediate surroundings for others and coming up fortunately with none. "My mother was from Vaneheim originally. One of the favored Goddesses of the Realm in fact. The garden we came from was a special place of hers. If I were to hazard, I would say that the spot we are in would be as well. She, or someone who cared for her, planted the tree as a way to cross unknown between her two homes."

"Who do you think it was to see?" Lysse asked, seeming to need his voice as an anchor.

"In my youth, I would have hoped for a secret lover," he smiled self mockingly, "if only to explain why I am so different from my Father and Thor. More likely, however, it was a teacher or a some other cherished older relative. Mother has a dreadfully sentimental streak."

"That explains where you get it from," she teased, coming more back to herself.

Loki bristled at her words. He deplored sentiment, he told himself. But as he helped his lady rise from the ground to go and rescue his Mother, he had to wonder at the veracity of his thoughts. Norns, what was this woman doing to him, that the very person he had always held himself to be was repeatedly being shown to be a carefully maintained mirage?

"It's good the time of day seems to be consistent," he commented, changing the subject. "The dark will help to hide us from prying eyes. I do not dare use more magic here than a simple tracing spell to find her... Wait, that gives me an idea."

With out explaining, he pulled her into him, her back pressed against his chest, and nibbled on her ear, making her squirm.

"Loki, what are you doing?" she demanded. "This is hardly the time!"

"Magic, dear Sparrow," he breathed into her ear. "Remember your lessons. I am stimulating you. Now, I want you to picture your father."

"Loki!" she hissed. "I cannot picture that horrid man while you are doing... that to me!"

"My apologies, love," he grinned, fondling her full breast. "I don't want you to think of him in those terms. Imagine that you and I are in need of alone time, time to play. And you do not want the ogre who sired you to interfere. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes," she half moaned as he slid his hand down her top. "I can do that."

"Good girl. Now softly, ever so softly, reach out with your mind to see where he is so that we can avoid him. You are his blood, the link is established already, so there is hardly more than a whisper of magic needed."

As Loki bit and sucked on her neck while rolling her nipple to a hard nub, he could feel Lysse spare a tiny part of her lust addled brain to sweep the area for a sign of her loathed Father. Her feather touch was as soft as the skin he was savoring in his mouth as her power drifted through the halls. Drawn by the connection they shared, Loki was able to track her silently until they found Njord, asleep in a far corner of the estate.

"Well done, love," he murmured, raising his head from her reddened skin. "Now, my turn to search for Frigga."

"Do you need me to stimulate you?" she asked in a throaty voice, causing his cock to twitch painfully.

"As much as I would enjoy that," he smiled, patting her delicious rear, "one of us had best keep our wits."

He chuckled at her mewl of disappointment as he sent his mind racing through the place in search of his Mother. He did not sense her aura anywhere. He did, however, locate a corner of the compound quite near to them where all of his awareness had been blocked. He would be willing to wager a good deal that this was where Njord would be keeping her, warded and confined.

"Found it," he said tersely as she readjusted her clothing from his mauling. "Heavily warded, and at a guess secured with armed guards as well. We must be cautious, love."

"And here I was planning to imitate your brother and enter with full berserker war cry," she replied testily.

"Don't be cranky, love," he scolded. "You may stimulate me to your heart's content when we are safely back in Asgard and you are tied to the bed awaiting your punishment. Now, let's see..."

With a dim flash of his seidr he saw her gape as his shape transformed. 

"I didn't know you could do that!" she gasped, looking him up and down.

"Oh, Sparrow," he purred, "I can do so much more than simply change the color of my hair and eyes."

"Has anyone ever told you that you are the world's biggest tease," she asked him, narrowing her eyes. 

Feeling surprisingly lighthearted, Loki took her arm and set off across the lawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long to write. Life has been busier than usual lately!


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Lysse search through Njord's compound for Frigga.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I am back after a couple weeks away for family reasons. It has been a little tough getting back into the swing of writing again, but I think I finally managed to get a halfway decent chapter together for you! Hope you enjoy. As always, I really appreciate any feedback!

Loki was pleasantly surprised at how quiet Lysse kept as they made their way toward the warded part of Njord’s compound. He should not have been surprised, he supposed. She had been like a mouse when he first took her into his rooms, at least when she knew him to be there. He got the feeling his Sparrow had spent a good amount of her childhood hiding from others in order to read in peace. Loki could deeply relate to this, though he had had other skills at his disposal to cloak his presence from unwelcome others. Skills that at the moment he could not use, as he did not wish to alert any other magically inclined individuals to their presence. 

Her little hand in his was cold, and he was glad he had thought to give her his cloak. If he judged correctly they could expect snow before their mission was complete. Loki had always been a bit impervious to the cold; he did not feel more than a slight chill from the nip in the air, but he had observed over the years that others tended to react much more strongly. It had always given him a smug sense of satisfaction that Thor, with all his musclebound girth, had shivered like a mewling child when the winds howled, while he had gleefully cavorted in the snow, fashioning balls of the stuff to pelt his brother with.

It was a beautiful night despite the cold. He had always found Vaneheim lovely, filled as it was with mist and magic. He had sometimes wished as a child that Frigga would rebel against her martial husband and return to her childhood home, taking (of course) her more sorcerously inclined son with her. That they two could have set up a life where magic was prized and brute physical strength was regarded more as a weapon of last resort, rather than the other way around. It was tempting to allow his mind to indulge in that fantasy now - to imagine that he and Lysse were merely two nobles of the realm, born to this seat of power, strolling through the winter night as he courted her. It was a lovely image, his Sparrow raised to her proper rank and status, he all but worshiped in a world that held power such as his in high esteem. What a team they would have made!

"How much further?" she asked softly, a slight chatter to her teeth.

"Not much more, and then we will be inside," he assured her, smiling fondly at the roses in her cheeks and the redness of her nose. "Are you terribly cold, love?"

"I'll survive," she shrugged, eyes determined.

"That's the spirit," he nodded. "I promise I will warm you later to your heart's content."

"I'll hold you to that promise, though it might take all night to content me" she told him boldly, only her quickly lowered eyes betraying her insecurity at speaking so wantonly.

"My Sparrow grows lusty," he chuckled, tweaking her cheek. "Trust me, when once I have you back in my tower bed, you will not set foot outside of it until I have relieved you of the ability to walk."

"How then will I set foot outside of it?" she asked pertly with a grin of her own.

"That, love, is the entire point of my wicked scheme," he answered with a wink, causing her to raise a hand to muffle her laugh.

"I should not be joking," she said after a moment, eyes clouding over. "It should be me held prisoner, not Queen Frigga."

"What do you mean?" he asked, perplexed by her sudden confession.

"Njord wanted to take me with him. If I had gone docilely as you instructed, the Queen would now be home safe."

"And you would be his prisoner," Loki pointed out. 

"I am his daughter," she shrugged, looking miserable. "Maybe it is where I belong."

"Lysse, you cannot blame yourself," he said, stopping to face her. "You did not set these events in motion. No one could have predicted that Njord would be mad enough to seize the AllMother from her very court. I know Frigga better than I know anyone, save perhaps you, and I tell you truly that she would not want you to suffer a single pang of conscience. She made the choice to protect you, and it was the correct choice. Do not doubt it."

"If you say so," Lysse did not sound particularly convinced, but turned to keep walking towards the building before them.

Loki briefly closed his eyes to shut out his own pang of guilt. Lysse might be blaming herself, but he knew all too well at whose door the blame should be laid. He had over reached, both inflating his own sense of trickery and underestimating the crazed cunning of his enemy. For all of Loki's fantasies about this realm, Njord had succumbed to the same prejudice as all the others, placing more importance on Thor's warlike strength and proximity to the crown than on Loki's skill and intellect. When it came down to it, it seemed the entire universe was designed to give the advantage to those that swung first and thought later.

When they at last reached the buildings, all vine covered and lovely, Loki paused to assess their choices. After a brief walk along the start of the perimeter they found a small wooden door, locked fast. Loki placed his hand to the latch and began to pull when a bolt of power surged through it and sent it flying back. As he cradled his smarting appendage he cursed himself for a fool. Of course the gate would be warded.

"Are you alright?" Lysse asked, eyeing him with concern.

"Of course," he assured her, shaking off the sting that was more embarrassment than anything else. "Just a simple ward on the door. Now that I'm paying attention, I don't know how I could have missed feeling the thrum of it."

"Curious, I don't feel anything," Lysse scrunched her nose as she held her palm out towards the door.

"You have only begun your training," he reminded her, still surprised himself that she could not sense the force crackling around the door. 

"But I feel other warding," she said, inching her hand closer to the gate latch. "From the books in your rooms, the door to the tower... But here, it just feels warm. Inviting even."

"Lysse, wait!" 

Before he could stop her, his Sparrow reached out her fingers and carefully undid the latch, allowing the gate to silently swing open. As Loki's heart slowly resumed beating at a normal pace she looked up at him, a victorious smile playing about her mouth.

"After you, my Lord Prince," she suggested, gesturing to the door.

"It must be set to allow those of Vanir blood to enter," he muttered with less good grace than she deserved, trying to ignore her superior look.

"That had occurred to me," she agreed, clearly enjoying his rare moment of discomposure. "It is nice that my wretched blood line has finally come in handy for something. And, I might add, fortunate that you brought me along on this rescue."

"Don't get cocky, love," he growled, crossing cautiously over the threshold into the dim hallway. 

"Me, never!" she said, trying her best to hide her amusement.

"I would have found another way in," he insisted, hating how defensive he sounded.

"I have no doubt, My Prince," she nodded. "But isn't it nice that you didn't have to?"

"Keep up the gloating, love, and along with being unable to walk you will be unable to sit as well when we return home."

"Yes, My Prince," she said demurely, following him into the hall.

Loki wanted to be irritated by her growing confidence, but inside he could not contain a burst of pride in his Sparrow. She was a woman of talent, a woman of courage and heart. And she was his.

***

Lysse tried to keep the relief from her eyes as she followed Loki through the small gate. She had been feeling a strange surging within herself since they had crossed over into this realm. It was as if something long dormant within herself, newly awakened by her Prince, was suddenly springing into full bloom. She had experienced it in the ease with which she had tracked her loathsome father, and in the way she had felt Loki's transformation of his appearance with his small trace of seidir. As they walked across the grass in the cold night air, it had seemed to her that the very ground was feeding into her being a strength she had never before experienced.

Perhaps, she told herself, she would be able to make up for her part in this fiasco after all. It was all very well and good for Loki to exonerate her from blame, but if she had agreed to go with her father as custom and prerogatives of rank demanded none of them would now be in this predicament. Loki might love her - the very idea made her heart leap within her - but Frigga had a claim on him that no one else would ever match, nor should even try to. How long before he began to resent the woman who's father was responsible for her loss, were anything to happen to the AllMother? She would not blame him for coming to despise her in time should the worst come to pass. But if she could help him free the Queen, perhaps she would be deserving of her Prince after all.

As she snuck a look up at him she had to remind herself yet again that it was her Loki that accompanied her. Gone were the raven dark locks smoothed back regally from his brow, the pale alabaster skin that shone as white as the moon, and in their place tawny curls of burnished gold and a face kissed a golden color by the sun. His eyes, too were more blue than green now, though the same sharp intelligence shone from them. He was still handsome, still  _him_ , but without the severity of the contrast in coloring there was a softer look about him. It was disconcerting to say the least.

"You're staring, Sparrow," he remarked, some of his smugness coming back. "Should I be jealous at your fondness for this look of mine?"

"Of course not, My Prince," she replied automatically, before adding with an unusual sauciness, "though a little variety might be intriguing on occasion. Providing, of course, it was all you."

"You have been spending far too much time out of my chambers," he told her, eyes narrowing. "You are become entirely unrulable!"

"I assure you, you will not find that to be the case," she answered, blushing. She would never tire of having him rule her. Not really.

The hall they were in was long, with doors on either side at oddly spaced intervals. Most of them stood open, indicating that nothing of interest was likely to be inside. As they began to traverse down it, Loki made perfunctory glances into each room before continuing on. Lysse caught glimpses of dusty beds, furniture covered in cloth to keep it fresh, and boxes of belongings long since out of use. It appeared that this wing had not been in use for some time. It made sense, if this was indeed where Njord had hidden Frigga, that it would be out of the way of the general population. He would not want to risk the AllMother using her charm to turn some unsuspecting person to her side.

The closer they got to the end of the hall, Lysse began to experience a new sensation along her skin. It was not the same as the general sense of strength she had felt flowing into her. Rather, it was as though an unfelt breath was blowing over her skin. All of the hairs on her arms stood at attention and every nerve in her body felt tight, as though a current of electricity was running through her.

"What is it, Sparrow?" Loki asked as she shivered in response tot he growing feeling.

"Something," she struggled to put it into words. "I'm not sure what. A power in the air, almost electric. It's not painful, exactly, but I feel as though I want to scratch off my skin!"

"Njord's magic," Loki pronounced grimly. "We are just a short way from where the warding starts. Once we round that corner at the end of the hall, my senses can detect nothing. It would make sense that you would be more aware of his magic. I can always feel when Mother is working something. Just try to relax, darling. I promise I will keep you safe."

It was not her safety she was worried about, but Lysse knew better than to say so to her Proud lord. He must be feeling crippled, unable as he was to use more than a hint of his power lest Njord or another magic user detect their presence. She knew he had considerable strength in arms as well, he could not have survived so long as a prince in a court that valued them above all else, but he would always want to use cunning and magic rather than baser abilities if given a choice.

Wrapping his cloak around her more tightly, Lysse glanced into a small room on her right. It was less shrouded than the others they had passed by, with an uncovered dresser and bed, and a large rocking chair heaped with rags and yarn. A chill breeze blew in from the open window, and caused a set of chimes hanging from the curtain rod to ring loudly in the still air. It was an almost unworldly sound, and Lysse could not help pausing to stair at the silver moons and stars glinting metallically as they rang out.

"What are you staring at, missy?"

To her great shock and horror, the heap of rags on the rocker sprang up and resolved themselves into the bedraggled form of a woman so ancient that she appeared to be barely corporeal. The grey that Lysse had taken for yarn was in fact her hair, all snarled and hanging limply in clumps around a sunken face. A grimace that could either be a smile or a snarl revealed a mouth of missing teeth, save for three sharp fanglike protrusions that jutted out at odd angles.

"Haven't you ever seen a Goddess before?" the old crone hissed, and then burst into gales of loud laughter, rocking herself back and forth in her chair.

  



	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Lysse find out the identity of the crone. Will she be an ally or a foe?

Loki instinctively took a step around and in front of Lysse as the old crone continued to cackle. He couldn’t blame his Sparrow for the shriek she had let out; he had barely been able to maintain his own veneer of composure when the pile of rags had come to life and begun to speak. Sweet, merciful Valhalla, she looked like a creature designed to frighten children into doing their chores and eating their vegetables! Certainly nothing living should be so withered and decrepit as this hag seemed to be. Rheumy eyes that once might have been green peered at them as her claw-like hands clapped in mirth.

“Who are you and what do you want?” he demanded, trying to wrest authority. 

“Ooh, so fierce,” she chortled, sucking loudly on her lower lip in mockery. “Such a brave little princeling popinjay trying to protect your peahen!”

”I don’t know what you mean,” Loki attempted to dissemble. “I am no Prince.”

”Pshaw,” she spat, pointing one long, ragged nailed finger waveringly at him. “I know who you are, princeling. Your glamour doesn’t fool me!”

Loki considered prevaricating, but really there seemed little point. Instead, he gave his best repressive glare at the ancient woman and let his false appearance slip away. 

“Very well,” he allowed in a haughty voice, “you know who I am. Now tell me who you are.”

”Oh, that’s rich!” The crone set off into a new round of wheezing laughter. “I see the truth now. You don’t know!”

”No,” he ground out, barely keeping his anger in check. “I _don’t_ know. I have never laid eyes on you before. Believe me, I would remember.”

”No, you wouldn’t,” she shook her head, “but that’s not what I meant. I meant that _you don’t know who you are_! You think the glamour is gone, and it’s still all around you!”

”You’re insane,” Loki spat out, a chill he could not place touching his spine. “Come Sparrow, we will learn nothing from her.”

”Oh, you could learn much and more from me, if I chose to tell you," she taunted as he began to maneuver Lysse away. "You might even learn where Frigga is and how she is being held.”

”Loki, wait!” Lysse gasped, grabbing his hand. “Please, Mistress, I am sorry if we disturbed you, but if you could tell us anything about Frigga, please do! We need to find her.”

”Such a pretty child,” the old woman rose from her chair with much grunting and creaking of limbs and limped towards them slowly. “Such pretty manners. You did not learn those from old Njord! Oh no. You must take after your mother.”

”You know Njord?” Loki demanded, then cursed himself for a fool. Of course she would know him if she was here. 

“Oh, I know him alright,” the creature’s voice dripped with malevolence. “I know him better than anyone. I know him in every intimate way you could possibly know another.”

Loki gaped at her as what she was implying sank in. Njord, the powerful ruler of the Vanir, and this ruin of a woman? Was it possible?

”I see the way you stare,” she spat, loathing in her tone, “but I was not always what I am now. In my day I was the fairest Goddess in all the Nine Realms. Gods and men alike strove to win my hand and take me to their marriage bed. And I threw it all away for a pair of storm grey eyes and the bluster of sweet words. And all to a God whose eyes were as roving as the seas he commanded.”

”You can’t be,” Loki breathed, the story beginning to piece itself together in his mind. 

“Can’t be who?” Lysse asked in tiny voice behind him. 

“Nerthus,” he replied, seeing her smile as said her name. “Goddess of Fertility. Njord’s wife. But she died a millennia ago.”

”Njord’s unquenchable lust settled on another,” she said with a sneer. “My student, in point of fact. The vain God wanted me to release him so that he would be free to pursue her, but I loved her too much for that. It gave me great pleasure to deny him. He retaliated by stripping me of my magic and transforming me into what you see before you today. A wraith in the palace I once ruled. Dead to the universe, but condemned to live as this horror until he chooses to release me, which he swears will happen only when the young Goddess I denied him is his.”

"That's terrible!" Lysse cried, voice full of compassion. 

"It is indeed," the old woman whined, swaying back and forth.

"Wait!" Lysse's eyes lit up with thought. "Your student. The one who Njord coveted. It was Frigga, wasn't it?"

"Smart as well as pretty," Nerthus said approvingly. "You don't deserve her, princeling."

"I am well aware," Loki agreed, feeling pride at his love's quick wits at the same time he gnashed his teeth for having not seen it first himself. He attempted chalked it up to not wanting to envision his mother in that way, but knew he was lying to himself. Something at the back of his mind was distracting him. "That is not going to stop me from having her."

"Oh, you've had her plenty already, I can tell," Nerthus giggled, causing Lysse to blush. "Well, if Frigga could make that genocidal beast Odin more tolerable, I suppose this one might just be the making of you. You did have an excellent teacher after all."

"And you taught Mother," he said, ignoring her continued digs. "The tree! The Portal! Mother planted it to visit you, didn't she? She knew about you all this time."

"Ah, there might just be hope for you yet, boy. Yes, Frigga planted it for me. The dear girl had offered to refuse Odin's suit, so that I should not be left here alone, but I insisted she accept. I knew if she stayed it would only be a matter of time before Njord grew bold enough to seize her. The night before she left for Asguard to wed her barbarian, I gave her one of my few remaining magical items that I had manage to keep hidden from my husband. The seed of the Portal Tree. She was a good girl; she would come and visit me every few years. From time to time when you were a stripling boy she even brought you, that I might assess your power. As if she could not do that for herself. I think she just wanted to show you off to me after that useless clone of Odin she produced."

Loki gaped at Nerthus, trying to remember the meeting. Surely even if he was young he would remember such a character.

"Don't bother straining your head," she smirked. "The memory was erased from your mind. We couldn't have word getting back to Njord that I was having visitors. Or worse, that Frigga was here unescorted, ripe for abduction or worse. And the boy has not been born who could keep a secret."

"I could have," Loki said quietly, suddenly wishing fervently that he could remember those visits, his mother proudly showing off his abilities in the face of Thor's ineptitude at magic. It would have served as a balm for the countless times the opposite had occurred.

"Perhaps you could have at that," Nerthus replied, looking at him assessingly. "You certainly had enough kept from you. But all of this dredging up of the past is fruitless. I assume you are here to free her, are you not?"

"We are," he nodded. "Will you help us?"

***

In the course of a matter of minutes Lysse had gone from terrified to intrigued to reverent. This woman, so wretched in form and circumstance, had made a monumental sacrifice to save the AllMother, before she was Queen herself, from ruin. Though she had "died" centuries before her birth, Lysse had heard of Nerthus. She had thoroughly researched Njord and everything about his life after learning of her parentage. It was said that his wife, goddess of Fertility, had been so beautiful that all it would take was a glance from her for life to spring forth if she so desired. And to be transformed from that to the haggard banshee before them! It was an abomination of cruelty. One more unforgivable crime to be laid at her father's door.

"Will you help us?" Loki asked, bringing her mind back to the present.

She had rarely seen her Prince as discombobulated as he seemed now. The fact that she had pieced together the end of the story before his brilliant mind saw it spoke to his distraction and distress. It must be the danger to his mother, she decided. His mind would be holding itself in readiness, waiting for the moment to free Queen Frigga.

"Why do you think I showed myself to you, boy?" Nerthus barked, rolling her watery eyes. "For the pleasure of your company? You are pretty enough as you look, but my taste has never run to giants. Frigga is in a highly protected room around the next corner. Come."

"Yes, we had already deduced as much," Loki snarked peevishly, though he was mannerly enough to offer the old Goddess his arm to aid in her slow progress down the hall.

Lysse eyed Nerthus as she tromped along on Loki's arm, considering her words. Loki was tall, certainly. He stood a whole foot above her own diminutive height. But compared to the other Gods she had seen - Odin, Thor, even Njord, he was no giant. It was a strange choice of words for the crone to use.

"Don't dawdle, girl," Nerthus chided her. "We haven't all day."

With a shake of her head, Lysse trotted after the two of them. What did it matter. She doubted the woman could even see more than a blur of an outline with how rheumatic her eyes were. No doubt he seemed tall as a giant to her, after being locked away for all these years.

"Did you bring the book?" Nerthus asked suddenly, stopping in her tracks and causing Loki to stumble. It was the first time Lysse had ever seen him off balance when sober.

"I did," she replied, "if you mean Bramwell's."

"What else?" Nerthus said dismissively. "I spent ages creating that thing. All of my best work is in it."

"Bramwell's was written by a husband and wife," Loki contradicted her, shaking his head.

"Imperfect instruments, I'll grant you," the old woman shrugged, "but I had very little choice. They were staying here for a season decades ago and liked to sneak into my garden to fornicate. The only magic wielders besides your mother and my thrice cursed husband I had seen in centuries. So I waited until they were enjoying their post coital naps and whispered into their ears. I never meant for their carnal passions to get so mixed up in the spells. Male and female energy needed to bring them off - it's so cloying! But we work with what we're given. They left their little idyll with a book full of spells and a womb full of babies. Five, if I'm not mistaken. Perhaps Njord didn't take all of my gifts from me after all."

"You hear that, Sparrow," Loki said, turning back to grin at her. "Perhaps before we leave you and I should test out that theory."

"I am NOT giving birth to five babies all at once!" she blurted out before she could stop herself.

"No, the births still happen one at a time, I'm sure," he teased her, winking. "But you are right. I much prefer the idea of getting each of them in their own time. It is so much fun to try, after all. And there is the garden back on Asgard to think of."

Despite the inappropriateness of the timing, Lysse felt herself growing aroused at the thought of what such getting would entail. She agreed - she did not want to rush any of it. The fact that Loki had actively considered their future offspring was a source of unspeakable stimulation to her. She longed for the moment they were all safe back on Asgard so that she could show him just how much such sentiment meant to her.

"There are three guards outside the door," Nerthus went on. "I trust you are capable of subduing them?"

"I am," Loki replied without bravado. "Though one must wonder how competent they are when they have not come running at all the noise we have been making."

"Don't be unnecessarily dense, boy," the hag groused sharply, causing Lysse to wince on Loki's behalf. Of all the words one might use to describe him, she doubted dense had ever been one of them. "Njord had them all deafened. He couldn't risk Frigga's powers of persuasion."

"Wouldn't sound proofing the room have been simpler?" Lysse asked with a shudder, thinking of the poor guards.

"Perhaps, but not nearly as amusing for our good Lord Njord," the old woman shrugged. "Here we are. Stay with me child, while the princeling does his duty.”

Despite Nerthus' suggestion, Lysse couldn't resist stepping forward just a bit so that she could peek around the corner and watch Loki fight. Although fight didn't really seem to describe what happened. She had seen battles, of course. One couldn't grow up on Asgard and avoid them. But she had never seen anything like what she witnessed that night. It was more a dance that Loki preformed than anything else. A series of spins, feints, and thrust with a pair of daggers that went by so quickly it all seemed to be no more than a blur. With alarming ease and surprising beauty, three bodies lay inert at the feet of her Prince, while he appeared to have not so much as broken a sweat. With a flourish of his wrists the lethal metal blades, somehow void of the blood they had shed, vanished into the air.

"Tidy," the old Goddess said with a nod. "Now, down to the real work. Are you ready, children?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut again, I know, but I wanted to spend some time with Nerthus. In the original mythology, she is Njord's sister as well as his wife and mother to Freyr and Freya, but I decided to forgo the incest angle. Njord is creepy enough without adding that in. Interestingly, his other children were with a Jotunn Giantess!
> 
> In other news, I have third row seats for Betrayal tomorrow night and don't know if I'm going to make it. I've never fangirled before in public, (well, once years ago when I had to escort Harrison Ford to his seat at a theater I became completely tongue tied, but that's it!) and hope I can refrain from acting/looking like an idiot if I decide to try for the stage door (which I have also never done in all my years on the NY theater scene!) Wish me luck!


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Lysse must combine their talents to save Frigga.

Lysse walked tentatively around the corner to where Loki stood, gingerly tiptoeing around the inert bodies of the guards he had so neatly rendered lifeless. She felt a renewed sense of awkward shyness after having witnessed his deadly beauty. The Loki with the spinning daggers, the swirling angle of death, was not the moody, indulgent Prince she was used to, ready with a quick quip or a devious suggestion but just as happy to stay in bed playing with her. This was a warrior, trained to kill and strikingly good at it. She had never felt more out of his world, more like a small little country mouse misplaced in the orbit of Gods and heroes.

"So quiet, Sparrow?" he asked, tilting her chin up and forcing her to meet his eyes. "What are you thinking, hm?"

"You killed them all..." she stammered, and saw his brow draw down in response.

"Well, yes," responded, tilting his head to the side. "That was the general idea. I did it quickly, they would have felt no pain."

"That's just it - you were so..." Lysse cringed at how she sounded, breathy and fatuous to her own ears, "so beautiful. I have seen my share of death, my Prince. I never knew it could be an art before."

Loki's eyes went wide as he looked at her, and she caught the quickest flash of gratitude in his gaze before the pupils blew wide and he crushed her into a kiss. 

"Yes, yes, he's deadly and dangerous and that's all swoony," Nerthus said with a sigh, hobbling around the corner. "And she is excellent at stroking your ego and what man doesn't go hard from a good stroking? But can we please concentrate on freeing your Mother? You do want Frigga free, don't you? Or would you prefer to just ravish the girl here on the floor?"

"I would prefer to do both," Loki said, reluctantly pulling his lips from Lysse's while his hand flagrantly squeezed her rear. "However, the one will wait and the other must not. You will wait for my ravishment, won't you Sparrow? Until my Mother is freed?"

"If I must," Lysse said, affecting a long suffering sigh.

"Sassy wench," Loki laughed, smacking her ass hard. "I fear you must."

"I would wait for you to ravish me until the end of time, my Prince," she smiled at him.

"Ugh, you're as bad as the cloying couple who wrote my book," Nerthus harrumphed. "Save some of that for the spell work why don't you. What do you think of the door, princeling?"

Lysse watched Loki run his hand over the dark wood of the door, much as he had with the Portal Tree, as though searching for something. The wood was almost black in appearance, smooth as metal and solid seeming. There were no marks, no handle of any kind, nothing but a slab of darkness in the wall.

"Sense anything?" Lysse asked quietly, not wanting to disturb him but unable to help herself.

"Quite the opposite," Loki said, voice distracted. "I sense the total lack of anything. Not hot, not cold, not hard or soft, no power or vibration of molecules. Just... lack. Here, touch it. It won't harm you."

"How many a girl has gotten into trouble based on that lie, I wonder?" Nerthus mused to herself behind them.

Trying to ignore the blush that sprang to her face, Lysse reached out and laid her hand upon the door. Instantly she shrieked and jumped backwards, cradling her hand to her chest while Nerthus cackled to herself. The door had burned and frozen her all at the same time, and the force it was emitting was enough to knock her halfway across the hall.

"Lyssette!" Loki gasped, spinning to take her by the arms, concern splashed across his face. "What happened?"

Lysse silently held out her hands, now burned red by contact with the blasted door. Loki stared down at the offered appendage and then raised it to his lips, kissing her palm and in doing so spreading an icy healing balm along the length of it.

"I told you it was a lie," Nerthus chuckled. "Good thing your lothario has a way with ice, isn't it?"

"You knew that was going to happen, didn't you?" Loki snarled, whirling to glare at the old biddy.

"Of course," she shrugged, holding out her own burned red hands. "Do you think you are the only one to try and free her? I've killed three sets of guards since Njord stuck my little girl in there. Two with my teeth."

"And at least one with the sight of your face alone, no doubt," Loki snarked peevishly. "Why did you let Lysse touch the door? Why did you not warn her?"

"It's not my job to protect the girl," Nerthus shot back, "and I was curious to see how it would react to her. There was always a chance the ward would only hold off Gods, or that it wouldn't be reactive to one of Njord's blood. The only way to find out was to let her touch it."

"She's right, Loki," Lysse interrupted as she saw Loki began to rear up for another attack on their strange old companion. There was no point in arguing over what was done. "Loki, it doesn't hurt you, correct?"

"No," he said, turning his gaze reluctantly from a smirking Nerthus. "I just feel absence." 

"It reacts differently to male and female," Nerthus said authoritatively. "I assumed as much, but it is nice to have it tested."

"Why would you assume that?" Lysse asked, again to head off Loki's verbal attack.

"Because it is meant to keep Frigga's magic in, and my magic out," the hag opined, assuming a self important pose. "Of course Njord will be expecting some sort of rescue attempt by Asgard, but he will have expected one of a different sort. The martial wrath of Odin, for one, or your dim bulb of a brother, Thor. All the compound is on edge, waiting for the rainbow slashing through the sky to bring avenging death and destruction. What he will not be expecting is that the neglected whelp, the kicked puppy of the Odinson dynasty will find a way into his stronghold along, with his very own wayward daughter. Why would he? He has no knowledge of the Portal Tree, and after your pathetic performance on Asgard "negotiating" with him he will not have much fear of you. And he certainly doesn't know about the message I sent your lovely friend."

"You sent?" Lysse gaped at her.

"Of course. Think, girl! Unless his pretty appearance and, one would assume, large member has addled your brains. Frigga is in an impregnably warded room. How would she send that message?"

"I didn't think of that," she confessed. From the way Loki was grinding his teeth it was clear that he hadn't either.

"Why did you sign it with an F?" Loki demanded, anger in his voice that Lysse knew came from once more being late to a discovery. There was nothing he loathed more than lack of knowledge.

"Would you have come if you received a sorcerous letter from a dead Goddess you had no memory of ever meeting before? Would you have allowed your precocious "Sparrow" to come? No, I don't think so. And I needed you both here. Now, if you are done licking your wounded pride, let us set about opening the door."

"I thought you said it was impregnable," Loki huffed.

"Ah, but I am the Goddess of Fertility," Nerthus smirked. "I can impregnate anything!"

***

Loki had just about had it with the old crone. He had found her amusing at first, and the fact that she seemed to value him at least a bit higher than she did his brother did not leave him unmoved. But her attitude was unacceptable. He was a Prince of Asgard, not a  _whelp_ as she had called him. And her allowing Lysse to injure herself touching the door was beyond unforgivable. She was fortunate Loki had not ended her then and there.

Forcing himself to calm down and swallow his anger, Loki drew a steadying breath aided in no small part by his arm still wrapped around Lysse's body. She had a remarkable calming affect on him, he had noticed. He only had to deal with this insane creature for the length of time it took them to free his mother. Then he could be back to Asgard with the two women he loved (albeit in VERY different ways) ready to be proclaimed a hero by all the realm.

"So how do we get in?" he asked, keeping his voice steady.

"Give me the book," Nerthus commanded, holding out her clawed hand. 

Lysse surrendered the precious volume to her and she thumbed through it, smiling nostalgically over various passages as she went. It was all Loki could do not to scream in frustration and tear the tome from her hands, but he held his peace and waited for her to finally reach a page near the end of the book.

"Here we are!" the crone crowed, dropping into a squatting position. "Just what I was looking for. Now, I trust that you are both masters at arcana. Yes?"

"Well..." Lysse began to demure, looking at him.

"Yes," Loki over road her. "Just tell us what you need and we will do it."

"We need to join your spirits together," Nerthus explained. "The door is as nothing to men, designed that way so that the guards would not bother with it, and repulsive to women. What we have to do is meld the two of you into one so that you can touch it, but its magical properties will be made visible. That way we can deduce its weakness and breach it. Understand?"

"Of course," Loki said, thinking that he just might glimpse a bit of what she was saying. It made sense, of course. Njord was a dedicated chauvinist. He would naturally have different spell components for males and females. A combination of the two would not even occur to him.

"Very well, let us begin. Face each other find your center."

Taking a very deep breath, Loki turned so that he was face to face with his Sparrow. Gently, he put a hand on each of her forearms, sending a reassuring wink her way. Lysse gave him a tentative smile and drew a breath of her own as the two locked eyes. Slowly and precisely Loki began to marshal his inner strength, feeling the familiar power pooling within him. As he tenderly reached out with his thoughts, he could feel a corresponding power growing in Lysse, albeit one a bit less controlled than his own. Wanting to assist her, he let his hand slide to her breast and gave it a firm squeeze, working his way slowly to her nipple which he pinched hard in his fingers. Lysse gave a breathy little moan and the power he felt within her surged.

"Ah, so that's how it is," Nerthus smirked. "Very well, we can work with that. Go on kiss her then. And make it good."

Not needing to be told twice, Loki bent down to sweetly taste his Sparrow's lips, licking at the seem until it opened and allowed his tongue entrance. After that they both automatically lost themselves in the kiss, bodies pressing together in a deep, passionate embrace that shut out all of the drama going on around them and left only the two of them.

"Good enough," he distantly heard Nerthus say with a chuckle. "Now, reach out with your minds. Your souls. You power. I want you to place yourself within the other's being. See what they have seen, feel what they feel."

As Nerthus began a low incantation behind him, Loki used the kiss as a pathway into Lysse's true self. He pictured her in his mind, beautiful, spirited, brilliantly bright, passionately caring, and tried to insert himself into that rose glow that was the core of her person.

He was in a large room, one filled with books. An elderly couple absently read at a pair of desks as he played on the floor by himself, lonely but at home in his imagination. He was up a tree, hiding from the world that always looked at him as an oddity as a voice shouted for him from below. He knew that no one would find him up in his safe place, so he kept his silence. He was in a dark hallway, flustered by a handsome man who seemed actually interested in his company, flatteringly so against all history, until he wasn't and Loki was left alone once more, reminded that he was different and didn't belong. He was back in the book filled room, and a large, terrifying figure in the shadows was booming words that did not make any sense as the walls of the room seemed to be falling down around him. A bright rose flash sparked and everything vanished. He was being held down, helpless to resist as beasts tore at his clothes. Terror filled him, but then a hero stepped out of the darkness. In awe, Loki saw someone who looked like himself, yet at the same time not at all. Tall, God like, unspeakably handsome. A healing green light radiated from the man, and when he reached out his hand to him, it was as though the world sang. 

"Good, good," Nerthus said encouragingly. "You have found each other. Now, complete it!"

As the crone intoned a few more words in old Norse, Loki felt his body glowing with a combined aura of green and rose. There was a compassion in him that he had never felt before. A completeness. He wanted to stay this way forever.

"The door!" a voice barked from far away. "Touch the door. Do it! NOW!"

Loki ignored the order, too happily drowning in the essence of combined seidr flowing around him and Lysse. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed. He was one with his Sparrow. His beautiful, luminous girl. He wanted to stay there forever.

"Prince Loki!" the irritating voice whipped at him. "You must do it now of the spell will consume you both!"

Let it consume them, he thought recklessly. He wanted nothing more than to stay in this state until the light went out. He was whole, wanted, seen, and loved.

"If you do not touch the door Frigga is as good as dead! Do you want to condemn your mother?"

Frigga. His Mother. The woman to whom he owed everything.

With a sob of intense regret and loss, Loki turned away from the woman he loved and placed one hand on the door. In perfect unison Lysse did the same, and a blinding flash of their combined seidr lit the hall.

Loki opened his eyes from where he lay, flat out on the floor. The connection had been broken, leaving him panting and spent, sweat poring from every part of his body. Blinking to restore his vision, he saw Lysse on the other side of the hall, looking similarly stunned, but apparently unharmed. And there, standing taller than she had before now, in front of the door with her arms stretched wide, was Nerthus. A bright golden aura shone about her, radiating with power.

"HNIGA!" she screamed, and the door shattered like glass. 

Loki through himself across the hall, sheltering Lysse from the flying splinters with his body. When the explosion ended and the ground stopped shaking he raised his head to see the old hag leaning against the wall.

"You said you had no power left," he accused her.

"I lied," she replied with a shrug. "I do that from time to time."

Loki was still trying to process it all, attempting to determine if the seemingly harmless old woman was in fact going to turn out to be a major threat, when a female figure walked through the shattered door way. Frigga glanced around at the chaos in the hall and raised one elegant eyebrow as she looked at them all.

"Well, you certainly took your time about it," she said calmly. Then a wide smile lit her face as she knelt down to brush Loki's hair from his face. "Thank you, my son. I am so very proud of you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hniga - old Norse for Open
> 
> Thank you all for reading! I love hearing from you and am so thrilled that people enjoy this story!
> 
> In other news, Betrayal was AMAZING, though a cell phone going off during a key scene 3-4 times for long periods at a time was intensely frustrating. Get tickets soon if you can, once the NYC reviews come out it will be hard to get!!!
> 
> Oh, and I am actively on tumblr now (instead of just lurking, lol) so feel free to find me!


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frigga is free, now to escape back to Asgard!

The relief that poured through Loki at the sight of his mother safe and in one piece was profound. He had been attempting to hold down, to deny the panic welling up inside of him since her abduction, but as good as he was at lying to others he was much less so at lying to himself. Frigga was the load star around which his life, his sanity, was based. If something had happened to her as a result of his machinations he did not think he would be able to live with it. Surely it would at very least drive him mad. 

“You look haggard girl,” Nerthus said bluntly to the Queen of the Nine Realms. 

“Being kidnapped doesn’t agree with me I find,” Frigga replies dryly. “I see you’ve made the acquaintance of my son and Njord’s daughter. How many lies did you tell them old woman?”

”Heh,” Nerthus spit on the ground. “Just enough to get them to do what was needed. And not nearly as many as you have.”

Frigga gave Nerthus a quelling look that set Loki’s mind wondering and turned to his Sparrow. 

“Are you alright Lysse,” she asked, bending down to check the girl’s pulse. 

“I am fine, your Majesty,” she answered, still sounding some what dazed.

Loki could understand. His mind was still a bit foggy from the spell they had worked, and he was far more used to that level of magic than she was. Not that anything he had done had ever been quite like the profound sharing of... what? Minds? Souls? He didn’t know how exactly they had been forged together, only that it had offered a completion he had never dreamed existed. In those few moments he had lived the defining scenes of Lysse’s life. The fact that he figured in so prominently, not to mention the magnificent way she apparently saw him, filled Loki with an almost overwhelming feeling of love and a trace of fear. What had he done, he wondered, to deserve such adoration from her? Anxiously he paused to wonder what she had seen in him. His life had been far more colorful than her sheltered existence. 

“Thank you for your assistance in my release,” his mother smiled at his love. “That was an extremely high level spell you performed. If you need to talk about it, once we are back on Asgard and you have had time to catch your breath, my door is always open.”

”Speaking if Asgard,” Nerthus interrupted, “shouldn’t you be heading back? We used enough magic that even a dead weight like Njord should have been awakened by it. It will not be long before he puts in an appearance.”

Loki saw Lysse blanch at the name of her damnable father. Rising with a slight groan, crossed the hall and helped her to her feet. Unquestioningly she went into his arms, head burying itself in his chest. He could feel her entire body still trembling, whether from the spell work, fear, or some combination there of he could not be sure. 

“It will be alright Sparrow,” he soothed her, kissing the top of her head. “I will not let him touch you.”

”Bold words, princeling,” Nerthus scoffed. “He is a God.”

”So is my son,” Frigga said sharply, piercing her mentor with her gaze. “You will give him the appropriate respect.”

Their eyes locked for an intense moment, and Loki had the sense that far more was happening beneath that stare than he was privy to. He hated that. 

“Very well,” Nerthus nodded grudgingly. “I defer to you on your child. But even a mother cannot deny that he has used an inordinate amount of seidr and is in no shape to face a being of Njord’s strength.”

”Fair enough,” Frigga agreed. 

Loki hated that they were correct. He felt weak as a kitten, and could gladly sleep for days were he back in his own bed, preferably with Lysse snuggled up beside him. Still, that did not make it easier to hear the two Goddesses speak of it so openly. 

“Can you walk, Sparrow?” He asked, choosing to ignore them in favor of the woman still suitably in awe of him. If he was tired, she must be ready to drop. 

“Of course, my Prince,” she said instantly, smiling up at him. 

“Do they ever stop?” Nerthus carped, standing and finally giving Frigga a warm, maternal hug. “They are almost as bad as you and the cyclops were once upon a time.”

”Why does everyone act as if Odin was born missing an eye?” Frigga asked in an aggrieved voice. 

“It was hard to tell back then, since his face was constantly connected to your own.”

Loki gaped at the pair, imagining his parents as love struck idiots. The image did not compute and he shook it from his mind. Some things did not bare thinking of. 

Supporting Lysse with one arm while his Mother did the same for Nerthus, Loki led them down the hall the way they had come. 

“How is your Father holding up?” Frigga asked suddenly, voice quiet. “I expected every moment to hear the chaos of war reigning down. I admit I did not desire that for my homeland.”

”Father has gone into the Odin Sleep,” Loki informed her. “Thor rules in Asgard.”

”By the Norns! And the Vanir still stands?” She gasped. 

“He was persuaded by advisers to wait for the full muster of troops to arrive before invading.”

”You mean persuaded by you,” she replied. “Thank you, my son. You have saved countless people from tragedy.”

While the words she spoke initially warmed him, Loki couldn’t suppress a residual pang of anger. His Mother obviously knew that Thor would not make the prudent decision, would not attempt to secure her freedom by less bloody means. Likewise she was aware that it was Loki who had argued for sanity and strategy. And yet she had always supported Odin and his singleminded desire to see Thor on the throne. Why? Why was he worthy when Loki was not, when it was Loki who put the Realm and its needs first? Oh, certainly he was not above trying to maneuver things for his own benefit, but when the moment of judgement came it was Loki who could be counted on. Was it just a wish to maintain a united front that caused her to back Odin's choice, or was there truly something about Loki that caused everyone to recoil from him?

Everyone but Lysse. The woman in his arms was far from recoiling as he walked her solicitously back out into the night air, slowing his long stride so that she could more easily keep up with him. He thought about carrying her, but he wanted to have his hands free should they be set upon and he needed to protect her.

As if on cue to his thought, a sound of footsteps could be heard echoing down the corner behind them. Several soldiers by the sound of it, all heavily dressed and rattling weaponry. With his spare hand Loki summoned a dagger while out of the side of his eye he saw his Mother do the same. He, who had been trained by her in the early days, had cause to know just how deadly the AllMother could be with a blade.

"We will not make it to the Portal Tree," Frigga sated calmly, as if commenting on making it home in time for tea.

"I am slowing you down," Nerthus grunted, breath panting. "Leave me. I can deal with the soldiers."

"After you arranged my whole jail break? I think not."

Loki was almost inclined to agree with the old woman - she had lived here for centuries, obviously she was well versed in avoiding the guardsmen. Unfortunately his Sparrow was not moving much quicker than the ancient Goddess, and there was no universe in which he was leaving her behind.

"Is there anywhere to hide?" he asked, surveying the landscape dubiously.

"Not for all four of us," Nerthus shook her head. "I hope you have gotten your breath back, boy, you are going to need it."

As the sound of pursuit neared Loki started looking around for a place to make a stand. He and Frigga could hold off quite a few, but he was winded still and they would also be protecting their companions. It was not an ideal situation. Still, he had been in worse predicaments and lived to tell about it. Stoically he began to center himself in preparation for battle. They would have to take them all, they could not risk any stragglers finding out the location of the Portal. Asgard would not remain safe for long if that knowledge was shared.

"Ah, if it isn't my guests," a deep voice rasped from the dimness ahead of them. 

***

Lysse shrieked as, like a character in a play, Njord stepped out from behind a tree directly to their right, blocking the path. His voice was calm and dripped with honey, but the look in his storm tossed eyes was furious and, she thought, touched with madness.

"And who all have we this evening? My, my, all of my women in one happy collection. My traitorous daughter, my decrepit shrew of a first wife, the woman who will soon be my queen. So convenient as I have plans for all of you."

"I have plans for you as well," Loki pronounced, leveling his dagger at the Sea God.

Njord threw back his head and laughed, a deranged sound in the night.

"I am sure you do, boy," he mocked. "When I have taken your mother, killed the old bitch, and thought up a suitable punishment for my slut of child I just might indulge you. Until then, you are the least of my worries."

Slowly Lysse felt Loki shifting his body so that he was shielding her from her father. He was ready to fight, she knew, but he would be exhausted. The same magic that left her barely able to walk must certainly be having some effect on him as well. He would try to hide it, of course. To put on a brave front and strive to protect them no matter how spent he was. She loved him all the more for it.

"I should have killed you centuries ago," Nerthus growled at the God who was her husband. "The first time you injured one of my maids I should have cut your balls off and fed them to you."

"Perhaps you should have," Njord smiled maliciously at his wife. "It was the only way you would get to touch them again. I know how much you loved that."

"Njord, this is pointless," Frigga tried to reason, shooting her friend a warning look. "You know Odin will not allow this abduction to go unanswered. Let us leave now and he might spare your life."

"I see no forces of Asgard at my gate, my love," Njord sneered. "No rainbow slashing across the sky bringing death and destruction. Are you sure Odin still wants you? Perhaps he has tired of you as I did of this worthless harpy and is glad of the chance to replace you with a newer, younger Queen. But never fear, Frigga. I still want you beside me on the throne."

"I would sooner mate with Surtur and rule Muspleheim," Frigga replied icily.

"And you, daughter," Njord turned his gaze to Lysse and she felt a sickness in his stomach as he smiled unpleasantly at her. "You still seek to defy me. You are driven by lust like all your kind, wretched half-breed slut that you are. But I will break you of that. Perhaps when you've watched your handsome prince die, screaming pathetically for mercy, you will understand that defying me has consequences."

Lysse stared at him as he smiled in anticipation, horror struck by the image he conjured. This man, this  _beast_ had taken every thing from her. Her Mother, back before she even had a chance to meet her, her home, her Grandfather, her sense of security, of belonging. He had ruined her newfound happiness with Loki when she had finally put the pieces back together to form a new life. And now he was threatening to defile Frigga, a woman more kind than any Lysse had ever known, to kill Nerthus, the strange but strangely sweet old woman who had aided them, and worst of all, to destroy Loki. Loki who had saved her from loneliness and despair. Who had showed her the potential for magic that lay with herself as well as potential for the magic that was to be found in his bed. Loki who she loved with a bright passion that would never be extinguished. This creature wanted to take them all from her. She could not, she  _would not_ let that happen. 

Drawing in all of her energy, her hatred of Njord, her fondness for Frigga and Nerthus, and most of all her love for her Prince, Lysse felt her passion swirl and grown within her. Closing her eyes for a moment and acting purely on instinct, she pulled it all to one glowing, focused spot. As she opened her eyes a rose tinted haze clouded her vision. She raised her hands to her chest level and extended them like claws at the man who had sired her.

"YOU WILL NOT TOUCH HIM!" she screamed, and let all the passion of her heart come stream out to engulf the God.

Her legs did not support her long. Lysse felt them go out from under her as she continued to loose her magic at the now howling Sea God. Fortunately for her, Loki was there and his strong arms caught her and held her tight. Through colored fog she saw Frigga raise her blade, a mother's fire in her eyes, and slash out, cutting open the belly of the foe who had threatened her son. But quick as the AllMother was, Nerthus, the old crone, was quicker. Screaming like a banshee, she threw herself at her vile husband. From somewhere about her she produced a long silken cord, thin and strong, and wrapped it about Njord's neck as he stood, held in stasis by Lysse's power. Climbing on his back like a wild animal, she wrapped the cord around his neck and pulled with all her might. Njord's tongue lolled out of his mouth as blood spurted from his stomach. With a wet gurgling noise and eyes large and unfocused, he collapsed to the ground, dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, do you think the end was appropriate for Njord? I thought it important that it be the women who killed the misogynistic slime.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Njord is dead, what happens now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some long overdue smut, that's what!!!

Loki stared at the limp form lying in his arms and choked back the surge of panic that threatened to overwhelm him. Lysse's face was drained of color, and her eyes were glassy and sightless. The small, thin breath that rasped from her was faltering and growing further apart as the seconds passed. 

"Sparrow," he choked, feeling blindly for a pulse at her neck and finding it slowed almost to a standstill. "Lysse, my darling, stay with me."

"Let me see," Frigga said, kneeling down beside him and placing her hands on Lysse's temples. 

"Tell me she'll be alright," he pleaded with his mother, desperate to hear the words.

"She has drained herself almost completely," Frigga said, voice worried. "The amount of siedr she used to stop Njord, on top of the spell the two of you worked to free me, has left her with almost no life force within herself."

"But you can fix it?" he heard the despair in his own voice, willed it to go away, that he might be strong for her.

"She needs an infusion of power, and soon."

"Use mine," he said immediately. "Tell me what to do and how to do it."

"No, Loki," his mother shook her head. "You can't."

"Why not?" he demanded, eyes flying to her face.

"You are drained yourself, almost to the point of exhaustion. To take any more from you would be to put you in the similar state."

"I don't care," he insisted. "If it will save her, take my life."

"I care," Frigga said gently but firmly. "And there is no need for you to be a martyr, my son. You are not the only one with power here."

"Whatever you are doing, girl, best do it fast," Nerthus urged from where she stood still looking down at Njord's mangled body. "Those guards will be here any minute."

"Hold her still, Loki," Frigga commanded.

Loki locked Lysse in the strongest embrace he could manage as his mother took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The air around them thrummed as a slow, steady flow of golden colored light came from Frigga's fingers to encompass Lysse's face. Loki, watching the transfusion, silently begged his love to awaken as a single tear rolled unheeded down his face.

"You there!" a voice commanded from a few feet away in the dark. "What are you doing? Who are you?"

"Aren't you finished yet?" Nerthus snapped at them as the power flow continued.

"Just a bit more," Frigga murmured, voice strained.

"Oh, very well, I'll do it myself," Nerthus sighed, obviously aggrieved.

Stepping away from Njord's corpse, she raised her arms out to either side. An almost blinding flash of golden light lit up the night as the old lady spoke a single word. In the near distance the soldiers cursed and called out in confusion. Glancing up from where he held Lysse in his arms, Loki saw the Goddess transformed almost beyond recognition. Gone were her rags, and in their place was a simple gown of gold revealing a figure ripe with curves. Her hair was clean and coiled about her head, so light in color he could not tell if it was blond or white. Most shockingly of all, the wizened mask of a face was now transformed as well. Not young by any means, it was still far from the ancient face she had worn. Bright green eyes shown with clarity and rose tinted the high, prominent cheek bones. She was, indeed, breathtakingly beautiful. 

The guards looked at her in awe as she walked calmly towards them, clearly not knowing how to react to this vision suddenly appearing in their midst. Nerthus smiled slowly like a cat as she sized up the five men with heavy weaponry standing before her, and then in a blur of movement began to take them out one by one. Loki had spent his long life watching displays of skill in battle, and yet he could not say with any kind of certainty what moves she used to disarm each of the guards and render them unconscious. The swirling daggers in her hands moved to quick for the eye to follow. One moment their were five men on their feet, the next they lay prone on the ground. It was as simple as that.

"Loki?" a weak voice spoke below.

With a cry of pure emotion he looked down to see Lysse's eyes, still glassy but aware and struggling to focus, blinking at him.

"I'm here love!" he assured her, tears pouring down onto her face as he lowered his to kiss her with as much restraint as he could manage.

"Careful boy, she just got her breath back. Don't take it from her again," Nerthus laughed.

Raising himself guiltily from her lips, Loki looked across at his mother and mouthed his thanks. Frigga looked weary and drawn, but she managed a smile at her son.

"You didn't kill them," Frigga stated, looking from the unconscious men to the newly rejuvenated Goddess who had rendered them that way.

"It's not their fault their lord was a stupid bastard," Nerthus shrugged.

"It's good to see you as you are again," Frigga smiled. "I take it Njord's spell died with him?"

"It did."

"What do we do now?" Loki asked, trying not to stare at Nerthus as he cradled Lysse to his body. "I don't think Lysse is in any condition to be climbing trees."

"I can do it," she protested weakly and with obvious falsehood.

"Best call for a ride," Nerthus suggested. "I would hope even your idiot son has enough sense to see that with Njord dead there is no need to wage war against a people who did not even know what he had done."

"My son is not an idiot," Frigga said testily.

"Not this one," Nerthus clarified. "I will give you that. He's only as slightly stupid as most men. It's the one with the hammer who is the true fool. Takes after his father."

"One day your mouth is going to get you into trouble," Frigga warned her.

"I speak the truth. You should try it some time, Frigga. Starting with your son there."

"We have had this conversation," Frigga spoke repressively.

"And I was wrong in part," Nerthus allowed. "Perhaps Odin did the proper thing. I am no longer so sure about that. Perhaps my own prejudices were clouding my judgement. But keeping people in the dark is never a wise idea. The truth comes out eventually. You know this."

"I will think on it."

"Fair enough."

"Would one of you like to tell me what exactly you are talking about?" Loki asked, keeping his voice as polite as he could manage under the circumstances.

"No," the two women said in tandem.

"I would very much like to go home now," Lysse said quietly from where she lay, causing all eyes to swing to her.

"Of course," Frigga said at once. "Nerthus, I will return soon to visit you, and you are always welcome in Asgard. I trust you will be able to see to things here?"

"If not I deserve to be back in rags of a crone," she smiled. "I look forward to your visit. As for you two, try not to be any more foolish than youth dictates."

With that, she flashed golden and was gone.

"All right children," Frigga said with a smile, crossing back and kneeling beside them. "Let's go home. Heimdal! Bring us back!"

 

***

She was in Loki's bed in the tower, and that meant all was right with the world. Yes, her body hurt in ways she didn't know were possible, and yes she had barely enough energy to raise her hand to cover a yawn, but she was alive and safe and where she wanted most in the world to be. 

Lysse did not remember much from the moment she had unleashed her power at her abusive father. She had poured every thing she had, every last ounce of passion, into rendering him unable to hurt the ones she loved. She had thought it was going to kill her. Apparently it almost had. Were it not for the AllMother syphoning off her own seidr to replenish Lysse's she would be dead. It seemed the least she could do to change the subject when Loki began to suspect what the two ladies were hinting at in their discussion. Admitting her fatigue and desire for a soft bed had done the trick, and brought the Bifrost streaming down to bring them home. She had passed out along the way.

"I don't know if your room has been repaired yet," a soft voice said from left. Turning her head with an effort, she saw Loki sitting on the side of the bed, looking at her with concern. "Hard to believe, but it has been less than twenty four hours since this whole fiasco began."

"I am glad," she smiled. "It was never mine to begin with."

"Yes, well, we will get you something better," he said anxiously. "Something worthy of your station."

"My station?" she asked, confused.

"You are the heir apparent to Vaneheim. By rights you are its ruler."

If it wouldn't hurt so much, she would have burst out laughing.

"I don't want to rule," she said with small shake of her head.

"I do," he confessed, head hanging. "That is what caused all of this."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"It was my fault," he whispered, not meeting her eyes. "I schemed with your father, in order to disinherit Thor and take his place on the throne of Asgard. I set everything in motion that led to Mother's abduction and your pain. I put the lives of the only two people who I've ever been accepted fully, ever loved without reservation, in danger to satisfy my own damn pride and ego."

"You conspired with him?" she asked, mind spinning at the information.

"To marry you," he nodded. "I thought to convince him that I would be a better choice than Thor. I played to his vanity, offering him to instate him on a throne of his own if he backed me by granting me your hand. I even suggested he might help my Father along to the Warrior's Hall in Valhalla and I would turn a blind eye to it when I succeeded."

Loki looked so miserable as he recounted these sins to her that she yearned for the strength to pull him to her. She knew he was a proud man, knew as well that he was in a near constant state of envy over the praise and support that were given Thor at every turn. Of course he would do what ever he could to gain some of that sunlight for himself.

"Loki, look at me," she said with all the firmness she could manage.

Hesitantly he raised his eyes to her face, self hatred evident along with complete exhaustion.

"Would you ever have actually let him hurt Odin?" she asked, holding his gaze with hers.

"Never," he choked, eyes filling with unshed tears.

"And would you have granted him a throne, knowing what he is?"

"Of course not. I meant the throne for you. For our children. To be part of our legacy."

"And would you ever have wanted to put your Mother in jeopardy?" she went on, trying to beat sense into his head verbally.

"Never, I swear it by everything I am."

"Then you are not responsible for what happened. To Frigga or to me. My Father was a terrible person. He raped countless women, caused death and misery to all around him. He is the perpetrator of the crimes, Loki. Not you."

"But I -"

"You schemed, yes," she interrupted, a small part of her mind amazed still that she would dare do so to a Prince of the Realm. "To keep the Nine Realms safe from someone presently not ready to rule. To keep me from being forced into a marriage against my will. And yes, to find some glory for yourself. This does not make you a bad person, my love. It makes you ambitious, perhaps, but that is not the worst sin a Prince."

"You can still... still care for me after knowing this?" he asked, eyes flickering away again. "You can find it in you to forgive me?"

"Loki," she gasped, unable to believe he could even ask such a thing, "you are my world! Do you really not know that? I would forgive you anything. I love you, you idiot."

As if he had been holding himself tightly in check, Loki suddenly sprang to life, throwing himself onto the bed beside her and gathering her into his arms. He was weeping, she realized in awe as her shoulder became wet with tears. He had truly doubted. When his mouth found hers it was with a desperation, his kisses deep and yearning. It amazed her how her body, so tired and sore, still reacted instinctively to his embrace.

"Loki," she said at last as he transferred his attentions to her neck. "I don't know if I have the strength."

"Hush," he muttered, nipping at her vein.

"Hush?" she echoed indignantly.

"Hush," he said again, kissing her should as he slid the fabric off of it. "Lie there and be still. Let me show you how glad I am you are alive."

Well, when he put it like that... 

Loki's mouth left a wet trail down her shoulder and across her collar bone, nipping and tasting as he went. With practiced hands he slid the nightgown she was clad in down her body to bare her breasts to his searching mouth. He gave an appreciative hum as he took one in and sucked gently on her nipples, careful not to be too rough on her in her weakened condition. When he had satisfied himself with the first he moved on to her second breast, showing it equal attention until she was squirming beneath him, desperate for his touch to move lower and satisfy the growing emptiness she felt between her legs.

"You need to rest, Sparrow," he told her, some of his usual sassiness slipping back into his voice. "Lye still or I will tie you down."

She made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a whine, but managed to keep herself more or less still, knowing it was not a hollow bluff he made. With a satisfied grin he continued down her body, exploring her naval with his tongue and eliciting a giggle from her. By the time his mouth finally reached the apex of her legs she was panting and whining in desperation.

"Would you like me to keep going?" he asked innocently, raising his head from where it was just about to sink into her dampness. "If you are too tired, I can stop."

Lysse choked back a sob and grabbed his hair, dragging his head down to her sex as he laughed at her need. She let out a long moan as he sucked at her clit and brought his fingers up to spread open her folds. She was tired and sore, but as he began to fuck her with his mouth and hand, Lysse felt a surge of life in her body that went beyond siedr or magic. She was happy. She just hoped they would be able to stay that way.

 


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Safe and sound back on Asgard, Loki and Lysse begin to contemplate the future.

He had been kicked out of his own tower and it was completely unacceptable. Yes, perhaps he had been a bit over protective. Loki supposed he could admit that. But he was just trying to make sure that his Sparrow didn’t set back her recovery. 

Very well, hiding all of her clothing had been taking things to an extreme. He just didn’t understand  _why_  she was so insistent on seeing his mother. She had thanked Frigga when she had initially healed her, and Loki had reiterated their gratitude when Frigga had climbed the steps to check on her. Surely that should be enough? At least until Lysse was fully restored to her full strength.

She had been magnificent when they emerged from the bathing chamber, where he had spent a very pleasing length of time sponging all of her lovely bits, to find that he had managed to vanish her garments. It had been easy enough to distract her, sliding into the tub behind her and lifting her onto his lap. The hard part was keeping enough of his composure as he began to thrust up into her to silently work the spell. It did help when her eyes rolled back in pleasure at his movements, he thought smugly.

That smugness had flown out the window when, upon seeing the empty closet, she had simply shrugged her shoulders and uttered a single “fine.”

At first he feared she would use her still weakened siedr to conjure clothing, but she had done instead had been far worse. Shooting him a look of pure determination, she had strode out of the bedroom, across the living room, and wrenched open the tower door.

”What are you doing?” He had demanded, shocked.

”Going to see your mother,” was the calm response as she started out the door.

”But... your naked!”

”And who’s fault is that?” She asked blithely.

With a cry of frustration he had chased after her, pulled her into his arms and transported them back to the bedroom.

”Let me go!” She insisted, struggling as he held her in an iron grip”

”Never,” he replied, enjoying the way she was wiggling against him.

”You can’t hold me indefinitely,” she taunted him. “You have to attend the council meeting. Order of the King.”

”King,” he scoffed. “You mean my idiot brother? What do you think he will do if I ignore him? Tell on me to our Mother?”

”But if you are not there,” she said sweetly, “What is to stop him from deciding to use all of the warriors he has assembled to attack another realm? Since they are all here and armed and all? But I am sure your practical minded brother would ever do something so foolish. Or that there are plenty of others who will be on hand to curb his more impetuous impulses.”

She was too damn clever, Loki had thought. The fact that this was also what he loved most about her was obviously a symptom of his perverse nature.

”I can tie you to the bed,” he ventured at last. “I believe I would enjoy that. The thought of you naked and bound up here, waiting for me to return and use you as I pleased.”

”You would not like it when you returned to find me unconscious. For I warn you, my Prince, I will not lie still in the bonds you leave me in, but do everything in my power to be free of them.”

Loki stared at her in disbelief. At first he had thought she was simply playing, but he could see now that she was in earnest. 

“Lysse,” he had said with a sigh, doing his best to make his voice reasonable, “why are you being so intransigent? My Mother knows you are grateful, and you need your rest. What is this determination to see her?”

Lysse had lowered her eyes, chewing on her bottom lip. Slowly, a small drip of dread began to make its way down Loki’s spine. Something was upsetting his Sparrow, and she was keeping it from him.

”I... I need to talk to her,” Lysse hedged, shifting nervously. “It is a woman thing.”

”I can be a woman,” he offered. “I can be anything you need me to be.”

”I need you to give me my clothes,” she replied stubbornly, then sighed and turned to bat her big, blue eyes at him to devastating effect. “Please, Loki. Just let me do this. I promise I will only go and talk to Frigga and then come right back here. Or, if you like, I can seek you out in the council chambers when I am done and you can carry me back up. That way you will have an excuse to leave.”

Loki stared at her long and hard. She was manipulating him and he knew it. On the other hand, if there was anyone he was willing to share her with (a big if) it was his mother.

”Fine,” he said at last, echoing her word from earlier. To see my mother and then to fetch me. That is the extent of it.

”Of course, my lord Prince,” she said with a meekness which was, all things considered, demonstrably false. “Shouldn’t you be going now, if you wish to be on time for the meeting?”

With a growl, after all he was no tame puppy to be so ordered about by his woman, Loki pushed her back down onto the bed and spent a satisfying fifteen minutes making her moan before he allowed her to rise, legs trembling, from the mattress.

Now, as he strode to the council room, destined to be late as predicted, he could not get the thought of her striding naked through the door out of his mind. It was exactly the type of move he would have made he realized, and that terrified him more than a little. As a trio of young lords sauntered by, giving him wide berth as he glared inwardly, Loki reached out and grabbed the nearest be the arm, pulling him to a stop.

”My Prince?” The young man squeaked, eyes wide as he looked at the sorcerers royal. “May I serve you in some way?”

”Indeed,” Loki answered silkily. “You know the Lady  Lysette, the Vanir Princess?

”Of course Highness,” the lord said with a grin. “She made quite an impression.”

As the lords began to share a smile, a snarl emerged from Loki’s throat.

”I have a task for you,” he snapped. “You will spread the word to all of your fellows, I care not their station. The Lady is under my protection. Should anyone so much as look at her in a way I might find inappropriate, I will consider it a person insult, and respond accordingly. Do I make myself clear?”

Letting his seidr glow ever so slightly green around him on the last words, Loki had the satisfaction of watch all three men turn pale and stutter their ascent. With a smile of pure menace he dismisses them and continued on toward the council.

He had still not managed to shake the odd feeling of dread nagging at him, but he did feel better from how quickly they had run. 

***

Lysse could not seem to stop pacing back and forth before the heavily carved wooden door. She had arrived some time ago, but had yet to work up the courage to enter. The pair of guards in their gold plated armor did their best not to stare at her, but she knew that they must think her mad. Twice before she had marched up to them, intending to ask then for entry, and both times she had lost her nerve at the last moment. She was such a coward, she chided herself. 

It was two days after their return, and she had only this afternoon gotten out of bed for more than a trip to the wash room. In a sweet reversal of roles, Loki had insisted on waiting on her, fetching her meals from the kitchens and standing over her to make sure she ate, drawing her a hot bath and washing every inch of her body, brushing out her damp hair until shone. He seemed to take intense pleasure in tending to her every need, naturally including those needs that only he was able to fill. While insisting that she not over exert herself, he had still managed to repeatedly bring her to orgasm, verily worshipping her body with his own. She was feeling pampered and rested by the time she woke this morning. 

She was also feeling a growing sense of dread. Lysse had returned from their adventure on Vaneheim troubled and anxious. As much as she had tried to forget the cause of her worry and lose herself in Loki’s ministrations, she knew that she could not put off the inevitable much longer. There was a truth that needed to be faced, and until it was she would never know real peace. 

Squaring her shoulders and giving herself a good mental shake, Lysse stopped her pacing and approached the ornate door.

"Third time's the charm?" one of the guards asked her with a sympathetic grin.

Lysse smiled back at him and nodded. She did spare a moment to consider how differently the guards treated her now that she was a Vanir Princess, ridiculous as that sounded to her, than they had when she was a lowly scullery maid. There were no lewd comments or inappropriate stares from this pair of officers. Of course, those chosen to protect this particular door would, by necessity, be among the elite guardsmen of Asgard.

"I'm ready," she told him, hoping her voice didn't waver too much. "Would you see if I may be received?"

With a nod he left his post, entering the room for a moment. Lysse glanced at the other, younger man, but he was studiously looking straight ahead and refused to meet her eyes. She knew where that came from as well. Loki, she had been told by a shy serving girl she had stopped after multiple men had gone pale and looked away from her, had made it very clear that the Princess Lyssette was under his protection, and that any offense, no matter how slight, offered to her would be severely punished. Lysse had rolled her eyes at the high handedness of it all, and had every intention of admonishing him later, but she secretly had to admit that she loved how possessive he was of her.

"Her Majesty will see you," the older guard said, stepping back into the hallway and hold open the door.

"Thank you," Lysse smiled again, and stepped into the room.

A huge bed dominated almost the entire space behind the door. Fur blankets of various colors covered the expanse of the mattress, and gold pillars rose up from all four corners. Lysse knew first hand that the God who lay asleep, profoundly asleep, in the middle of the bed was large and intimidating, but lying in that massive nest of pillows and furs he looked almost small. The Goddess sitting to one side of the bed, the one she had come to speak to, was almost as a child in the over sized furniture.

"How is he?" she asked quietly, looking at the sleeping Odin.

"Resting," Frigga said, glancing up from where she had been perusing his face. "He is at peace for the moment. If all goes as planned he will wake refreshed and ready to lead us through another millennia. And you, Lysse? How are you healing? Come, sit with me. You must still be exhausted."

"In truth I feel a bit restless," Lysse admitted, nevertheless taking the offered chair next to Frigga. "Your son has been taking excellent care of me these past two days."

"I have no doubt," Frigga smiled. "He is protective of the ones he loves, and he loves you very deeply."

Lysse blushed to the roots of her hair and ducked her head shyly. After the past week, she could not possibly have any doubts of Loki's feelings for her. It still stunned her to the core that such a singular being as her Prince could have chosen her for his own. Which brought her back to her purpose here.

"I love him as well," she said, chewing on her lower lip, "no matter who - or what - he is."

"Ah," Frigga nodded, eyes a bit sad. "There it is. I was wondering how much you had pieced together."

"My Lady, I don't mean to pry, or to question your decisions, but..."

"But you plan on making a life with my son," Frigga finished for her. "You deserve to know the truth of him. What did you see Lysse?"

"During the spell, you mean?" she asked. "It was just fragments. I saw a cave, dark and frozen. A small blue baby covered in markings lay crying on a stone altar. A warrior, blood dripping from his empty eye socket, picked up the babe and his skin changed to a healthy pink. I saw a young boy, barely past his first decade, competing valiantly with a group of other children, but not as robust as they were. I felt his frustration when he came up short. I saw the same boy, in the garden by the Portal Tree in Vaneheim, proudly displaying his newly acquired arcane abilities to two lovely women who praised him and made him smile brightly, before one of them said a word and his skin turned that same marked blue. I saw Loki, as a young man, feeling different from everyone around him, taunted by his peers, belittled by his father, weeping in his tower room all alone."

"I see," Frigga sighed, passing a hand over her eyes.

Lysse was on the verge of tears herself after this litany. The emotions she had felt on behalf of her Prince were still overwhelming her in their memory. She had left out the image of herself she had been granted, the way she had looked to Loki when she had made the flower petals fall on his balcony. That was for her alone, to hold close to her heart when she doubted herself.

"I also heard you and Nerthus speaking," she added.

"Nerthus speaks too much," Frigga said with a shake of her head. "It comes from keeping one's own company too long. You forget how to censure yourself around others."

"Perhaps speaking too much is sometimes less of a wrong than not speaking at all," Lysse pointed out, wondering where she found the nerve.

"True," Frigga's face puckered as she thought back over the past. "Ah, Lysse, I wish I could give you easy answers. But the truth is a hard pill to swallow."

"Loki is not your son."

"Yes he is," the Queen shot back fiercely, half rising from her chair, eyes locking with Lysse's. "In every way that counts he is and always has been my son, just as surely as Thor. More so in some respects. But you are correct, he was not born of my body."

"Who?" she asked, afraid of the answer.

"Loki is the biological son of Laufey, king of the Frost Giants," Frigga stated baldly. "He was abandoned, cast out because of his small size, when Odin found him after the battle on Jotunheim. Just a tiny babe, but with such a determined will to live. The AllFather brought him back here, and I went into seclusion and nursed him back to health. When he was well enough, we presented him to the realm as our child. He has been so ever since."

"He doesn't know though, does he? What he really is?"

"On some level, I believe he has suspected for some time," Frigga's voice was laced with regret. "But no, he is not consciously aware. We struggled with the decision of whether or not to tell him. There were some... heated exchanges between Odin and myself. I even tried to get Nerthus on my side, but she thought he should never have been rescued in the first place. She had some dealings with the Jotunn in the past; it left her bitter towards them. In the end, Odin decreed that Loki should be kept in the dark, that he not feel different, that he be protected. I may not have agreed, but the AllFather's word is law."

Lysse sat in stunned silence, taking all of the information in. It was what she had suspected, but even still hearing it spoken aloud was a shock. Her handsome, pale skinned hero, a Frost Giant? One of the monstrous race they had all been raised to fear and abhor.? It did not compute in her brain.

"What will you do?" Frigga asked at last.

"I cannot lie to him," Lysse said slowly. "Like you said, he is beginning to put it together. He knows he is different. He knows too that no matter how much he proves himself the wiser son, the King still has permanent bias towards Thor."

"That is a matter of temperament as much as biology," Frigga insisted. "Thor is much like Odin was when I met him. Odin understands him better. Loki is secretive, clever... no less worthy, but harder to know."

"He knows he's been lied to," Lysse said, thinking back to that night he had staggered home drunk. "He said as much to me. That no one ever told him the truth. My lady, I cannot deceive him. Not if we are to make a life together."

"You are a brave woman, Lyssette," Frigga smiled sadly. "My son is lucky to have found you. You are right, of course. He needs to be told. If you send him here to me, I will see it done."

 


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the highest high to the lowest low.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers "I'm so very sorry"

When Loki reached the council chamber he was surprised to find that it was empty save for his brother. He knew he was late, but surely he hadn’t lost track of that much time cavorting with his Sparrow. Looking around at all the empty seats at the table, Loki raised an expressive eyebrow at his smiling brother.

”Ah, Loki. There you are!” Thor beamed, slapping him on the shoulder harder than necessary. 

“As requested - or should I say ordered,” he replied with a scowl. “I thought you said it was a council meeting.”

Perhaps if he left now he could make it back to his chambers before Lysse had left. It was always much easier to persuade her to do as he wished when he could touch her. She was deliciously distractible. 

“It is,” Thor nodded, settling down at the head of the table. “But the matter of discussion is of a sensitive nature. I thought it best if you and I sorted it out alone.”

”Very well,” Loki sighed, sitting down and propping his feet up on the council table in a blatantly insolent manner he would never have employed with his father present. “What is it you need help with?”

”First, I wanted to thank you again for you rescue of Mother,” Thor said awkwardly, looking rather embarrassed. “I have to admit that you pulled off a feat that even I may have found difficult.”

More like impossible, Loki thought, but he merely nodded his head in acknowledgment. Even admitting as much as he had would be difficult for his hero brother. Loki knew better than to push. 

“Second,” Thor went on hastily, glad to be off the topic, “I forgive you for the business with Lady Lyssette.”

This did catch Loki’s attention, and he gave Thor a penetrating look, muscles tensing to strike if his brother said anything offensive about his love.

”You were, of course correct,” Thor went on, ignorant of his brother’s coiled state. “She and I would never suit. She is quite beautiful, I will grant you, but I prefer a woman more fond of taking action than of reading about it.”

Loki relaxed and smiled at his brother’s naïveté. Yes, Lysse was addicted to reading, but that did not mean she was sedentary or restrained. Quite the opposite in fact. As his brother droned on about his own preferences in the fairer sex, Loki let his mind wander to how his Sparrow, book held tight under her arm yes, charged into the room and insisting she accompany him to rescue his Mother. Or how she had used her powers, down to her very life’s force, to stop her hated father. Or, and here Loki’s pulse began to race, how she had strode, naked but determined, from his chambers just minutes before. She was magnificent.

”She will make an excellent ruler of Vaneheim,” Thor opined, smiling at his Brother.

”Yes,” Loki agreed, not really listening as he began to fantasize about hiding her clothes more permanently, or at least for several days. After making sure that the door to the tower was rendered inoperable of course.

”She is untrained, of course, but that is nothing that can’t be rectified.”

”I’m sure.”

Loki could just picture her, indignant eyes ablaze as she stalked about their rooms without a stitch on her body.

”She will need a Regent to assist her at first. Someone who is well versed in the ways of powerful courts.”

”Hm.”

She would be angry at him at first, but that would be half the fun. Seeing how long it took to wear down her defenses. To get her to admit that she enjoyed being bare to his gaze and completely at his mercy, dependent upon him for everything.

”Of course the easiest thing to do would be to marry her off,” Thor added, giving his brother a searching look as Loki’s eyes glazed over.

He would make her beg, he decided. Make her beg for her dinner, for her books, and when she was completely under his spell he would have her beg for his cock. The idea of all that fire, all that determination, naked on her knees desperately pleading for him to fuck her was making Loki's mouth water.

”I thought perhaps Heimdal might be a good choice,” Thor suggested, looking at him innocently. “What do you think, Brother?”

”Oh, certainly,” Loki needs nodded. “Wait - WHAT?!? Heimdal?”

Loki glared as Thor's face split into a grin and he doubled over with gales of laughter, pounding his fist on the table as he fought for breath. Belatedly Loki thought back over the conversation Thor had been having without him while his mind had wandered. Slowly, an unaccustomed blush spread across his face. 

“You must not value Heimdal’s life very highly,” he said stiffly to his still guffawing oaf of a brother, “to even suggest such a thing.”

”Ah, well,” Thor grinned, wiping the tears from his eyes, “perhaps another candidate could be found. What do you say, Loki?”

”Repeat, exactly, what you are proposing,” Loki requested carefully.

”I was _proposing_ ,” Thor snickered, “That I make you Regent of Vaneheim for Princess Lyssette, until such time as your marriage is solemnized, after which you may rule jointly.” 

"Regent?" Loki repeated, his mind suddenly not working quite as it should.

"If you are willing. To marry Lyssette, that is."

"Lyssette?" Truly, there was something wrong with him. Why was he repeating everything Thor said like a babbling idiot?

"Pretty girl, blue eyes, covered in bite marks last I saw her?" Thor prompted his memory. "You do want her, don't you?"

"Of course I want her!" Loki breathed, remembering at last how to do so. "And the Vanir?"

"Will need a strong presence on their dais now that Njord has been sent to Hel."

"What about Nerthus?"" Loki asked, mind still trying to play catch up. It was a terribly foreign feeling for him.

"She has no desire to rule," Thor shrugged. "And to be blunt, the Vanir do not want her to. You must admit she is an odd character. That leaves Lysette. She is Njord's only surviving heir."

"Lysse and Vaneheim?" Loki replied, stunned. "Both are to be mine?"

"Assuming the lady agrees," his Brother smiled. "Though I hardly foresee that being a difficulty. Tell me the truth, Loki. Did you court her to win the Vanir tiara, or do you really care for the girl?"

"I will kill the next person, be they ever so high, who doubts my feelings for her," Loki told him sharply. "I would marry her were she still a scullery maid in the servants quarters. We would find titles enough for the taking between us."

"Then I am happy for you. Truly, Loki."

Loki himself was in shock. It was not the throne of Asgard, true, but it was first step. With Lysse by his side who knew how high he might climb. A power base for himself and his Sparrow. A kingdom to carve out a legacy in. Thor was only Asgard's ruler until Odin awakened, and that could be any moment of any day. Loki and Lysse would have Vaneheim for as long as they lived.

"Thank you, Brother," he smiled, rising to accept Thor's embrace. 

"I assume you'll want to share the good news with the Lady in question?" Thor asked with a sly grin. 

"I do indeed," Loki smiled, an answering glint in his eye. They had some celebrating to do, he and his Sparrow. 

A knock on the door made his smile grow larger. No doubt it was her now. He would not tell her right away, he decided. He would wait until they were back up in their rooms, alone, where she could express her full appreciation at the news he had for her. As Thor opened the door, however, he saw that it was not Lysse but a random palace functionary who stood waiting.

"Yes?" Thor asked, assuming what he obviously thought was a more stately voice.

"I bear a message for Prince Loki from the Princess Lyssette," the woman said, staring at the ground.

"What is it?" he asked, sudden panic gripping him. Had she fallen ill from the unnecessary exertion of visiting his Mother? "Is she alright?"

"She is fine, you Highness," the woman answered quickly. "She merely wished me to inform you that the Queen wishes a word with you. The Princess will therefore see you in your chambers when you are done with your visit."

"Ah, many thanks," he said, relieved.

"Calm down, Loki," Thor teased, slapping him on the back again. "The girl is not made of glass. Go on, see Mother. It does not do to keep her waiting, and I am due for drinks with Sif."

"Enjoy," Loki said absently, mind elsewhere.

It was really happening. He had Lysse, he had power, and there was nothing that could hold him back now. With a light swing in to his swagger, Loki set off to see his Mother and share the good news with her.

***

She had not been able to bring herself to deliver the message herself. She knew that one look at her face and Loki would know, if not the details then at least the nature of the tidings that awaited him. She could not keep secrets from him, she had discovered that some time ago. She and Frigga had, after a brief discussion, agreed that his Mother should be the one to tell him the sad tale of his origin. She had been there from the beginning, if not from the moment Odin had found him her involvement had begun only shortly thereafter when he was brought back to Asgard as a baby. Frigga would be able to answer any questions he might have about that long and sordid family history. It would be up to Lysse, the AllMother added, to soothe his damaged soul after the truth had been revealed.

She was nervous, yet more than ready to take on the responsibility of that role. Lysse fully intended to spend the rest of her life making sure that Loki never felt lonely or neglected again, and she would start that very evening when he returned to her. She new it would not be easy - nothing about her dark Prince was easy - but it was well worth it. He deserved all the love she had within her, and she would make sure that he was aware it was all for him.

That would have been easier, of course, if he were there. As the sun set and the stars appeared, Loki failed to make an appearance in the tower. At a light tap on the door she discovered that a tray had been set with food for her outside, and she could hear the tired tread of a servant retreating down the stairs. Loki himself did not come. She picked at the meal, not hungry in the least but knowing she needed to keep her strength up. She was still recovering and her body needed all the nourishing it could get.

Perhaps he and Frigga were still talking, she posited. After all, there were centuries of lies to uncover, and no doubt he would have a myriad of questions, recriminations, and anger to unpack. But as the hours ticked by Lysse was forced to the unavoidable conclusion: he had learned the truth, and he had not come to her.

Swallowing a lump of insecurity, Lysse pushed her own feelings aside and tried to make herself think as her beloved would. He had been dealt a blow. He was terribly proud, her arrogant Prince. He would not take the news well. All of those years of self doubt, of second guessing his every impulse, would be rearing up to torment him anew. He would be hiding, she realized. He would wish to be alone, that no one else see his perceived shame. She could understand, it was what she would want herself. And she could not allow it to happen. Loki might not recognize it himself at the moment, but what he needed was love. She would  _not_ leave him to worry at his wounds alone.

So, where would he go? The library? There was comfort in books, to be sure. She could see him scouring through the shelves, pulling every book on the Jotunn that he could find. It wasn't difficult, since it was exactly what she had done on her way back this afternoon. A large pile lay neglected to her side. He would not go there now, though. He would not be using the logical part of his brain. Not yet. Loki would be all raw emotion.

She had it! In a flash Lysse was on her feet and slipping into her shoes. As she descended from the tower she prayed that she was right. The thought that he might have simply taken a horse, or a ship, or the damn Bifrost for that matter, and fled the entire realm had flickered through her mind. If he had, there was not much she could do at the moment. No, she had to keep her faith that he was not that far away from her. Not yet beyond her reach.

The door was locked, of course, and she had no special key. She knew she was not supposed to use her seidr yet, but still she did not even hesitate as she reached out with her magic to opened the door. With a breath of relief she felt it move beneath her hand. Lysse sent a thought of thanks to the Queen, who she guessed had already altered the spell to grant her access. She wondered distantly if she would ever be as wise and far seeing as Frigga was.

It was dark in the garden, with clouds covering the moon. The air was still magical, but it was a different kind of magic than what they had experienced days ago. Deep and mysterious, with danger threaded through. She made her way to the clearing where the shadow of the Portal Tree stood out, thick and dark against the inky sky. There, sitting at it's base, legs drawn up protectively to his chest and face buried in his knees, was Loki.

"Go away," he said, not looking up. "I want to be alone."

"Loki," she breathed, stunned despite her foreknowledge at the despair in his voice.

"I said go away."

"No," one word, but said with firmness.

"Have you come to see me cry?" he asked, raising his head to glare at her. "Do you delight, Sparrow, in witnessing my humiliation? You do seem to covet these opportunities, after all."

Lysse drew back at the venom in his voice and even more so at the hopelessness in his eyes.

"Nothing in this world hurts me more than your unhappiness, my Prince," she told him truthfully.

"My Prince," he echoed mockingly. "I am a Prince, it seems. Just not the one we pretended. Prince of the Monsters."

"You are no monster, Loki," she said, sitting down next to him.

"Oh, but I am," he hissed at her. "I am the monster that parents tell their children about at night. I am the weapon, hidden to be used when least expected. Kept like a beast, a stolen animal, until Odin decided to make use of me."

"Your parents love you Loki," she insisted, placing a soothing hand on his shoulder.

"They're not my parents!" he shouted, yanking away from her touch. "They lied to me! All my life, they lied! Let me believe that I was one of them, that I could be someone noble. A king. How's that for a laugh. As if the great AllFather would ever have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!"

The malice and self hatred in his voice as spat the words "Frost Giant" made her want to weep for his pain. Even in the dim light she could still make out the deep tear tracks on his face, the hollow circles beneath his eyes. There were torn patches on his tunic, and she was fairly certain that he would have made those with his own nails. The usually perfectly brushed hair was hanging in tangles around his ravaged face. Lysse wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around him and kiss the anguish away.

"You knew, didn't you?" he asked her suddenly, voice going soft and cold. "You knew what I was."

"I suspected," she whispered, treading carefully. "I saw snatches when we worked the spell. I was not certain, though, until I spoke to Frigga."

"That's why you insisted on seeing her today," he said, eyes narrowing. "Why you were so desperate to leave the tower. To leave me. To think, they left you alone with an animal! No wonder you could not bear my company any longer."

"Loki, no!" she protested desperately, reaching out to cup his face. "I had no... _have no_ desire to leave you! I wanted to find out the truth, yes. I wanted _you_ to be told the truth. I couldn't lie to you my love. We had to start our lives together with honesty."

"Oh, you're a fine one to talk of honesty," he sneered. "You, who lied to my face for weeks. Now, suddenly, you value honesty? What are they giving you, Sparrow, to stay with me? Is it Vanehiem? Is that how they convinced you? It is convenient, when you think of it. In one fell swoop they bind the Vanir closer than ever to the throne, get rid of the monster in their midst, and find a sacrificial victim to keep watch over me. All very neat. It is noble of you to agree to it, but then you always have been so desperate for even the most seedy semblance of a home."

"You are not yourself, my Prince, to talk to me so," she said steadfastly, trying to tamp down the hurt that his words inflicted.

"Oh, but just the opposite, love," he purred darkly. "I am, for the first time, allowing myself to be who I was meant to be. After all, why pretend to be what I am not. If a monster is what I was born, a monster is what I'll be."

In a single fluid move he grabbed Lysse by the shoulders and leaned her back, hands clutching her hard. Lysse's stomach dropped as he glared into her face and his eyes turned a shocking ruby red. A hard smile on his face, Loki smashed his lips to hers, kissing her without warmth. Lysse stiffened in his embrace, but did not resist. Whatever color his eyes, this was still Loki. _Her Loki_. She would not let him succeed in pushing her away.

With a cry ripped from his soul Loki shoved her to the ground and stood, walking a few steps away from her, hands raking through his hair. Lysse lay on the ground, chest heaving, eyes wide as Loki leaned his face against the tree and sobbed. When at last he had regained his calm, he lifted his head but still did not turn to face her.

"I do not want to hurt you, Sparrow," he spoke softly. "Please, please my love. Go away."

"No," she said again, summoning all the strength she possessed. "I will not leave you. Ever."

"Very well," he rasped. "Then it is up to me."

And with a flash of green he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... that was intense. This whole chapter just sort of wrote itself, and now I'm too depressed to go to sleep. Time for some serious cuddle time with the cat.
> 
> Oh, and congrats to DevilishDoll for guessing the ruling Vanehiem together!


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lysse and Loki struggle to deal with life apart from one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for those I upset with the last chapter... Loki is a distressingly volatile character. But really, isn’t that a lot of the reason why we love him? I humbly submit this addition that will hopefully go some ways to making amends.

It was a bright, sunny day on Vanehiem. The trees were a riot of colors as the flowers bloomed in the walled off garden of the palatial estate. Birds sang, bees frolicked from blossom to blossom spreading the pollen with wanton abandon. Just a short distance away a beautiful maiden sat absorbed in brightly illuminated manuscript, lower lip caught between her white teeth. It was a scene to brighten all but the most tragic of hearts. 

Up in one of the aforementioned trees, Loki tightened his coils around the branch on which he was twined. Tasting the air with his slit tongue he gave thanks that in his present, serpentine form he was less susceptible to the pangs of his heart than he was when in his Aesir body. He still felt the pain, would always feel the pain, but in this shape he could at least watch her from a distance without descending into the depths of his hell. It was a torment, but a distant, manageable one.

She was doing well, it seemed. Throwing herself into the study of her people and their realm. Her unassuming nature had endeared her to most of the Vanir court, and those who were resentful of the newly discovered heir were kept in check by the presence of Nerthus hovering by her side. Only the suicidal would want that Goddess as an enemy.

Loki flicked his forked tongue again, savoring her scent on the air. He spent much of his time this way, watching her from a distance. Forcing his soul to endure the torturous sweetness of being near her yet never touching. It was what he deserved. His penance for hurting her as he had that night in Frigga’s garden.

”Of all the melodramatic imbeciles in all the Nine Realms,” an aggrieved voice broke into his solitude as he was grabbed aggressively around his midsection and torn from his hiding spot among the leaves of the Portal Tree.

A moment later he was some distance away, still held in a firm grip, hissing up at Nerthus’ accusing face. Writhing angrily Loki bared his fangs and tried to bite the Goddess, but she deftly grabbed him close to his hooded head and kept it immobile.

”None of that, boy, or I’ll have you scaled and served for dinner!” She warned him, glaring. “I have put up with your petulant, self indulgent behavior long enough. If you are not going to come to your senses on your own then I will beat them back into you. Now, change back to yourself. You and I are going to have a conversation.”

Loki’s slitted eyes assessed her face, but he could tell from her scent that she had no intention of releasing him. She had, moreover, done something to block the majority of his seidr; he would be going nowhere until he acquiesced to her demand. With a final hiss for good measure to signify his displeasure at her high handed tactics he let go the glamor of the snake returned to his primary Aesir form.

”That’s more like it,” Nerthus approved, not releasing her grip on his neck. “Now, are you going to be a good boy an listen to what I have to say?”

”You over step, old woman,” he snarled at her. “This does not concern you.”

”Does not concern me? When I am the one kept needlessly awake by the girl’s endless tears at night? Who must endure her pathetic moodiness resulting from _your_ idiotic life choices? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Loki felt a pang of guilt assail him. The thought of Lysse crying herself to sleep was as a physical ache in his chest. Still, the old woman must be exaggerating. He had seen no signs of tears as he watched her each day.

”She would suffer more were she with me,” he said sullenly. “She is better off without me.”

”It seems to me that is a decision that she might feel she should have some say in. Or do you only like her when she is the biddable little servant, living only to obey your every command. Is a real woman with a brain in her head too threatening for you, princeling?”

”Of course not,” he bristled with resentment. “Lysse’s mind, her intelligence and spirit, is what I love best about her.”

”And yet you discount her wishes and preemptively make her decisions for her. Odin has trained you well, boy.”

It was a slap across the face. With the Odin sleep still in effect, he had not been able to speak to his supposed Father since the terrible day Frigga had told him the truth, but the facts spoke for themselves. Odin has single handedly ordered Loki's life to his own liking. He had never given a thought to Loki’s feeling on the matter. 

“That is entirely different,” he growled. “I am protecting her.”

”As Odin and Frigga thought they were protecting you,” she smiled spitefully.

”What do you want?” He demanded through clenched teeth. “Shall I go away and never set eyes on her again? Would that make you happy?”

”And here I thought Thor was the stupid one,” Nerthus sighed. “I swear, boy you are more witless than your father and brother put together. What I want is for you to get over your little temper tantrum, go down there and fuck the girl until she can’t see straight or walk properly for a week.”

”I cannot do that,” he ground out, resentment seeping off of him.

”Why not?” She asked, exasperated. “Frost Giants fuck just too. Believe me, I’ve seen it.”

”I am not interested in your sexual history,” Loki sneered.

”Princeling, listen to me,” Nerthus sighed. “These prejudices we carry are nothing but a hindrance. I admit I was once a slave to them myself. The first liaison my thrice damned husband conducted was with one of you birth species. Laufy's mother, in point of fact, the Jotunn princess known as Skadi. We had been married for a short time, less than a century, when Njord grew restless. When Odin asked for someone to subdue the Frost Giants on Jotunheim, he happily volunteered. The battle was successful, and Njord brought the King's daughter Skadi back with him as a hostage. Heh. She was striking - beautiful even in her own way, with cobalt skin and a lithe, muscled frame. Even the markings that ridged her body just made her seem exotic, and her haughty fierceness was a challenge he couldn't resist. I walked into our chambers one day when an excursion to one of my temples had been postponed, and thought that the ice princess was attacking my husband. It was only after I had screamed and run to protect him that I realized he was balls deep in her, with the bitch riding him like one of their prized horses. It was her way of buying her freedom I know now. That was the beginning of the end of my marriage."

"And this should interest me... why?"

"Because it stayed with me. From that moment on I saw Frost Giants as an enemy. Little more than animals, willing to kill or rut with no reason other than lust. When Frigga told me that she and Odin had taken you in, were planning to adopt you as their son, I counseled her against it. I was sure that you would turn wild, savage, one day. That your true nature would never be able to be kept in check. I was of the opinion that he should have left you to die on that frozen rock. Your mother, your MOTHER actually struck me when I said that. In all our years it is the only time she ever even came near to doing so. She took great delight after that in bringing you to see me, to show me how talented you were. How well mannered and strong in the gift of seidr. She believed, and I concur, that your birth mother must have been Vanir or Aesir, so quickly did you pick up our magic. She was more proud of you than I have ever seen her of anything or anyone. Eventually, even I was forced to admit my mistake. 

"We are not merely our biology, boy. You are a mind, a heart, and a lifetime of experiences. You have been loved by your mother all of your life. Yes, your father is a blustering fool, and yes you were different from those that surrounded you. But would you really wanted to be as they were? Your differences allowed you to see the beauty of the magic that fills the universe. It allowed you to rescue your mother when she was taken prisoner. It allowed you to see the potential in a serving maid when everyone else had written her off. So tell me, son of Laufey, is it really a detriment, or is it a secret weapon you have been blessed with?"

"You don't understand," he said, struggling with what she had told him. He wanted to believe her. Desperately. He wanted every thing she told him to be the truth at the heart of his dilemma. But there was one last secret. The one that ate at him night and day.

"Then explain it to me," she huffed in exasperation.

"Before Lysse arrived, before any of this started," he began, running a hand over his brow, "Odin made it clear that he intended Thor for the throne."

"I'm sure."

"He was demonstrably unfit. It was not that I wanted it for my self, or at least mostly not. Of course I wanted Odin to choose me, but that was secondary. I knew Thor would be the ruin of Asgard. His temper, his lack of judgement, would have set the Nine Realms at war within a month. He could not be allowed to ascend to the throne. I was determined to stop it."

"Understandable, if unwise," she allowed.

"I wanted to find a way to prove to Odin what he was. I thought if I could instigate something, something small, that would cause Thor to lose his temper then everyone would see wat I saw. A man-child too immature for ultimate power. I started working on a spell."

"What spell?"

Loki looked at her with tormented eyes, trying to find the nerve to say the words. He was haunted by it. Perhaps letting it see the light of day would be the best way to exercise the demon. 

"I found another portal. Between Asgard and the Jotunheim. I was working on a spell to hide myself and a small host of warriors from the Guardian. I was going to let the Frost Giants into Asgard."

"And?" she prodded.

"And what?" he blinked at her.

"That's all? You were researching a spell that would allow you to have a bit of fun and ruin your brother's big day? And for that you are ruining your life and that of a perfectly lovely girl? Not to mention mine, sticking me with all this regent nonsense."

"You don't understand," he moaned, rolling his eyes. "I must have known. Deep down inside. I must have known I was one of them, sided with them against the Aesir. I  _was_ one of them."

"You were a foolish boy," she said in reply, shaking her head. "The plan lacked finesse, if you ask me, but it was not ill thought out. Thor would in all probability done as you anticipated, leaving Odin no choice but to rescind his elevation."

"You're missing the point," Loki insisted.

"No,  _you_ miss the point. You didn't have a premonition, or whatever you want to call it, of being a Frost Giant. They are Asgard's enemies. Of course if you wanted to stir up trouble your mind would go to them. It is as natural as your mind going to the dwarves if you wanted to forge a weapon. Norns, you men all have such high opinions of your importance! You are spoiled, arrogant, and far too sensitive for your own good. What you are not is a monster or a threat to your people. You have a chance for happiness with a woman who, despite being far too good for you, is desperately in love with you. If you are half as intelligent as your mother claims you will get over your wounded pride and talk to her. See what she thinks about all of this."

Loki stared at his feet, her words clamoring in his brain. Was she right? Had he been acting the fool all this time? He needed to think. 

***

Lysse lay on her back on the large bed, eyes red and puffy from her latest bout of tears. She had managed to keep them at bay during the days when learning and duties occupied her mind, but night time was a different matter. When the world went dark and she no longer had a million distractions to hide behind his face would appear.

It didn’t help matters that with the Goddess of Fertility restored to her power there seemed to be mating creatures everywhere she looked. Rabbits hopped in pairs across the grass, birds sang as they built their nests in the branches of blooming trees, and deer cavorted on the lawns of the estate. It was all a blatant reminder of what she had lost and what she still, in her deepest soul, hopes to reclaim. Which was not likely to happen. 

A noise at her open window made her eyes turn that direction. There, perched on the ledge, was a sleek black cat. Lysse smiled at the is creature sadly, blinking the tears out of her eyes. 

“Hello there,” she smiled a watery smile. “And where is your mate? Don’t you know every creature in the known universe is frolicking with their beloved tonight? You should be off finding a nice kitten of your own.”

The cat gave a disdainful meow and sniffed the air superiorly. Jumping off the windowsill it made its way up the bed towards Lysse’s head, tail standing straight in the air as it swaggered. 

“You are a majestic beast, aren’t you,” she laughed, reaching down to scratch its regally offered head. The cat purred loudly low in its chest as she moved to the space below his chin, closing his green eyes in bliss. “At least someone wants to be with me.”

Pulling away from her hand, the cat leaned forward and licked her cheek, lapping up a tear that was falling unheeded down her face. The look it gave her was full of questions and to her mind seemed sad itself. 

“I know,” she sighed, deciding that talking to the animal was no stranger than talking to herself, a thing she did regularly. “I am full of self pity, aren’t I? But I have earned it, kitty. You see, the only person I will only love has left me.”

The cat meowed in question, cocking it’s head at her. 

“He was a prince,” she explained as it made itself comfortable on her chest. “A lonely prince in his tower. How’s that for a fairy tale cliche? And he saved me. Saved me from my past, from my own loneliness. He made my life full of magic, kitty. And what did I do in return? I destroyed his.”

To Lysse’s ears the noise the cat made was full of recrimination. 

“I know!” She nodded. “I didn’t mean to hurt him. I was trying to save him back. I wanted him to know the truth, so that it could no longer hurt him. You would have thought that my own history would have shown that the truth doesn’t set you free, it ruins you. If I had left well enough alone, left him in ignorance, we would still be together. Here, or up in his tower, I care not. I would have been able to keep him, at least for a little while longer. And cat, he was the most wonderful person.”

Cleary from the way the cat hissed he did not believe her, so Lysse felt the need to explain.

”Yea,” she admitted, petting him softly, “You are rather magnificent yourself. But Loki... he was perfect. Oh, not to most people, of course. He was sly and conceited and overbearing even at times. But underneath all of that was the most brilliant mind, wrapped in the soul of an artist. The world had more color in it when he was in the world. It had music and laughter and passion.”

With a slow blink the creature nuzzled against her neck. It was oddly comforting to her.

”He left me,” she confessed, choking back a sob. “He left me, kitty. Just because he used to be different color. You wouldn’t leave your mate, wherever she is, if it turned out you used to be a tabby, now would you? No! That would be too cruel.”

Unable to hold back any longer, Lysse buried her face in the cat’s soft fur and began to weep. She had cried so many nights now, but somehow sobbing into the purring creature provided her with a sense of comfort that had been missing before now. Instead of fighting back the tears as she had on every other night, she gave them permission to flow, drenching the poor beast in her tragic release as great sobs wracked her body. It was some time before she realized that somewhere during her barrage of tears a hand had begun stroking her back, and the softness her face was pressed against was not fur but dark, silky hair. With a gasp she pulled away to find herself staring into the green eyes not of the cat but of the one face in any realm she had most wanted to see.

”I am so sorry, my love,” Loki said, his own face streaked with tears. “Can you ever forgive me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re nearing the end my dears! One more chapter to finish the story. Thank you all for reading as always! I love you all. 
> 
> Oh, and sorry there’s no picture this chapter, I’m posting from my phone


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Lysse have found each other again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter everyone. Hope you enjoy!

Lysse stared through water blurred eyes at the God lying next to her. Had her grief finally driven her into madness? Had she fallen asleep as she cried her heart out and drifted into a dream where her love had returned to her? Either of these options seemed at the moment more plausible than that he had really come back to her. She had given up on that fantasy after weeks of being shut out of his tower and his life. He clearly wanted nothing to do with her. So why was he here now?

”I missed you, Sparrow,” he spoke softly, hand reaching up to wipe away a stray tear.

“Missed me?” she echoed dumbly, still in shock. “You sent me away.”

Even if this was merely a dream or a delusion, Lysse intended to get answers to the questions plaguing her soul.

”I did,” he nodded, eyes full of contrition. “I feared I would hurt you. Forcing you to leave me seemed the only way to keep you safe.”

”You did hurt me,” she said, searching his deep green eyes. “You hurt me more than I knew was possible.”

Loki winced at her words and bit his lip. She was unused to seeing such a hesitant, uncertain gesture from her Prince. In the time that she had know him he had never failed to be in control - of himself, of her, of whatever situation they found themselves in. Seeing him so vulnerable caused an ache in the heart that she thought had reached the maximum pain possible.

”I know,” he whispered. “I will regret doing so till the end of my days. Can you ever forgive me?”

”Why are you here?” She asked, sitting up and hugging a pillow to her chest. 

More than anything Lysse wanted to throw herself into his arms, but something in her was resisting. If this was just an apparition, or if he had merely come to check on her and be gone again, she could not afford to open herself up in such a way. To do so would be to invite even more pain when he left her once more. She was fairly certain she would not survive such a parting. The little that was left of her heart would leave with him and she would bleed out from sorrow.

”I am here because it is where you are,” he answered, eyes wide and unguarded. “I needed to see you closer.”

”Closer?” She asked, seizing on the word rather than the sentiment. “When have you seen me from afar?”

”Every day, Sparrow,” he replied with a sad smile. “I have spent my days in trees and fountains, or in between the petals of an obliging flower. I didn’t dare draw nearer, but I couldn’t stay away you see.”

”How?” She demanded, wishing her brain would work properly. He had laid one hand on her ankle and was absently rubbing his thumb across her skin. That simple, light, innocent touch was sending her into such tumultuous longing that she could barely comprehend the words he was speaking.

”A cat is not the only form I can take,” he explained. “I have been a snake, a wolf, a raven... all manner of creatures in order to be near you.”

”The butterfly!” She suddenly gasped, looking accusingly at him. “The green and gold butterfly that pestered me as I tried to read the book of Vanir lineage! That was you!”

”You are as perceptive as ever, my love,” he grinned at her. 

Lysse blushed as she remembered the persistent insect that had fluttered around her, batting at her hair, her lips, alighting once even on her breast where it spilled out the top of her corseted dress. 

“Why?”

”I had to touch you,” he said with a helpless shrug. “Even if I could not do so as myself, I needed to feel your skin, to smell your hair, to hear your heart beat beneath me.”

”And it never occurred to you that I might need the same?” she demanded, rising from the bed to glare down at him. 

“I was trying to keep you safe,” he protested again.

”From what?” Her voice skittered upward. 

“From myself,” he ground out. 

“You are an idiot!” She yelled at him, suddenly furious.

Here she had been, dying of longing for him, and the insufferable man had been right there the whole time! Picking up a the nearest object, a book from the nightstand next to her bed, she hurled it at his head with as much strength as she could muster. Of course the God caught it deftly with his lightening quick reflexes, a slight, apologetic smile flickering across his lips. This ease and borderline condescension of her rage only served to stoke the fires of her anger. Screaming incoherently she launched herself at him, her tiny fists beating against his chest. Loki stood still while she pummeled him, hands held out to the sides allowing her free access to his rock hard torso as she continued her onslaught. Only when her anger morphed into tears, tearing sobs from her center, did he allow his arms to wrap around her, holding her fast against his body while one hand soothed over her hair. When she had at last cried herself out of tears, she raised her head to find him smiling sadly down at her.

"You are an idiot," she said again, quietly this time.

"I am," he agreed solemnly, running a finger down the side of her cheek. "That is why I need you Sparrow. Without you I am a fool. I need you to help me find the wiser path."

"You will not leave me again?" she asked, hiccupping against him.

"I will not," he promised, thumb running over her lower lip. "I am a selfish man, my love. Even when I tried to be noble and let you go it turned out I was only thinking of myself. Well, I am through fighting against that selfish streak. I want you, Lysse. I want you in my life, by my side, and most definitely in my bed. Now that I have lived with you, I find that life without you is unacceptable. You are mine, Norns help you, and you will be mine even when we have departed for the afterlife."

"I am not a servant any more, you know," she said, trying her hardest to resist throwing herself at his lips. 

"I know," he nodded, eyes twinkling. "You are the ruler of a great Realm."

"My vassals have been counseling me to take a consort," she continued, looking at the dip of skin where his leather shirt exposed the top of his chest. 

"I am sure," he replied, voice neutral, eyes hard.

"A great many requests for my hand have come in," she informed him, feeling his muscles tense around her. "It seems I could have my choice of any eligible partner in the Nine Realms."

"And what have you replied to these requests," he growled, arms tightening their hold on her.

"It is flattering, of course," she smiled. "And they are correct, I must wed someone. Preferably someone who knows how to rule."

"Sparrow," his voice held a warning.

She knew she should not push him further, but she could not resist.

"Tell me, Prince Loki," she asked, looking up at him from under her eyelashes, "do you know if your borther Thor still requires a wife?"

With a wordless growl Loki picked her up as easily as he would a doll and through her onto the bed. Lysse laughed breathlessly as he covered her body with his own, lips finally descending to take hers with a fierce possessiveness that she would never get enough of. Pushing away all of her fear, all of the long nights of sorrow and anger, Lysse eagerly gave herself over to the dominating presence of her lover in her bed.

When he at last rose from her lips he used his magic to vanish her clothing, eyes raking over her naked form with such covetous need that she shivered from the intensity. She was no longer the shy little servant, however, and so with a flick of her wrist and a flash of rose he was suddenly naked as well. Loki's eyes went wide as he took in the spell she had worked so handily and filled with admiration at her talent. Lysse basked in his obvious approval.

"Someone has been practicing," he grinned at her.

"I needed something to do with all of the pent up emotion your abandonment left," she told him tartly. "One thing I will say for you, my Prince, one way or another you never fail to stimulate me."

Loki laughed, a joyous sound that had been all that was missing from her life. As he covered her naked body with his own, kissing every part of her he could reach, she felt a wild, almost feral need rising in her body. His answering arousal, insistently pressing against her entrance, was enough to make her moan in anticipation. Lysse spread her legs wide, wanting nothing so much as to feel him claim her, to take her body and use it to both of their pleasure. When he stopped just shy of breaching her, she thought she would explode with frustration.

"You are mine, Sparrow," he told her, eyes locking on hers as he held himself still, tip of his head throbbing at her gate. "I will have all of you, now and forever. No more running. No more hiding. You. Are. Mine."

With each of the final words he pressed into her, going so deep that her breath deserted her. From there a haze of want overtook them both, and drove them in a primitive, rutting dance of mating that was as old as the universe itself.

***

Loki lazed in the dawn light, smile playing about his face as he stared at the woman curled onto his chest. He had not slept at all over the course of the night, and yet he felt more refreshed than he had since they had freed his mother. He knew there was still much to sort. His true nature was not going away, and he would have to deal with all that truth brought with it. Still, with Lysse by his side he hoped to be able to face the challenges that lay ahead.

He had finally allowed her to rest after an relentless marathon of love making had driven her to boneless exhaustion. He supposed it was only to be expected - they had been without each other for weeks, they would need to accustom her body to taking his size for hours on end. He greatly looked forward to that. As it was, he had taken her in as many positions as he could, wanting to feel all of her body pressed against his, molding to him as he marked her as his own. Her body was covered in his marks, a lovely canvas displaying the reds and blues of his passion. Idly he allowed his fingers to trace the patterns he had made, feeling his cock rise up hard once more. It was amazing how easily this woman could have that effect on him, even in her sleep. 

"Time to wake, girl," a brusque voice filled the air as the door to the chamber burst open.

Lysse's eyes blinked open and with a shriek she rolled onto her stomach, covering as much of herself as she could. Loki, for his part, simply brought his arm behind his head and smiled, cock bobbing hello to the gawking Goddess who stood in the doorway staring at their naked bodies.

"Good morning, Nerthus," he said with a grin. "Care to join us?"

"Loki!" Lysse squeaked from where she had her head buried in his side.

"Sassy boy!" Nerthus chuckled, tossing a discarded blanket at them. "You could never handle me."

"But think what you would have to teach us," he suggested, laughing as he coaxed Lysse's head up, wrapping the blanket around their bodies.

"Good morning," Lysse said shyly, face turning eight shades of red.

"Well, this explains why you missed breakfast," the older woman commented. "Can I take it that you have allowed this idiot to sweet talk his way back into your good graces?"

"You can," Loki answered peremptorily.

"I will hear from the girl herself."

"You can," Lysse confirmed. 

"Well, it's about time!"

"Do not act so surprised, old lady," Loki laughed. "I know you had your ear pressed to the door last night. You came in expressly as you did in order to get an eyeful and we both know it."

"Young tom cat," she scoffed. "As if you have anything I haven't seen in my years! You forget who you are dealing with. So, does this mean that Prince Loki will be taking over as Regent?"

"It is up to you, love," Loki said, looking at Lysse. "Will you have me?"

"Of course I will, you idiot!" Lysse said, smiling at him.

She had obviously been spending too much time with Nerthus, but he was not inclined to care at the moment. Forgetting their audience, he swept her into a lingering kiss that would have led to more had a slow clapping not interrupted them.

"Well thank the Norns," Nerthus sighed in relief. "I was going to go batty if I had to deal with the damned court any longer."

"What will you do?" Lysse asked curiously.

"Travel," the woman decided with a nod. "I've been cooped up here for too long thanks to my unlamented spouse."

"I'll miss you," Lysse said softly.

"Oh, I think you'll survive. This one looks like he plans to keep you quite occupied in my absence."

"Indeed," Loki grinned, squeezing Lysse's breast and making her jump. 

"Try not to be any more of a fool than your gender demands," she told Loki, "and take care of that girl. You still don't deserve her."

"Agreed," he nodded again. "Thank you for bashing some sense into me."

"And you, girl, don't let him get away with too much. He needs a good set down every so often. Well then, I'm off."

Loki fashioned clothing for them, pants for himself and a tunic for Lysse, and they rose to wish the Goddess farewell. Nerthus smiled at each of them in turn, her eyes betraying a fondness that surprised him considering how they had began their acquaintance.

"Thank you for everything," Lysse said, hugging her.

"Your welcome. And the matter we discussed? The potential difficulty? You will find in a matter of months that it was a false concern. Make sure you take care of my gift."

With that, she was gone.

"Back to bed, Sparrow?" Loki asked, pulling her with him onto the mattress.

"You will wear me out, my Prince," she giggled, going into his arms.

"I have every intention," he growled, biting on her neck. "What do you suppose she meant by gift?"

"Well," Lysse began, hesitantly, "I have been doing some reading..."

"Imagine my surprise."

"And it seems there can be difficulties."

"What kind of difficulties?" he asked, not really paying attention as he worked his way down to her breasts.

"Difficulties mating," she explained. "Between Vanir and Jutonn."

Loki froze in his exploration, raising his head to look at her. 

"I was talking to Nerthus about it," she went on nervously. "Given her expertise in the matter."

"I see," his voice was eerily calm as the blood rang in his ears.

"Well, apparently difficulties can be surmounted, when you're the goddess of Fertility. She gave me a charm, just in case you came back to me."

"What are you saying, Sparrow?"

"I am uncertain," she hedged, biting her lower lip. "But I rather think she might have gotten us pregnant."

"Lyssette!" he breathed.

"We were rather... vigorous last night."

Loki nodded dumbly, staring at her stomach as if he could see it growing already.

"Loki?" she asked.

"Hmm?"

"You are not... upset?" she whispered.

Startled, he raised his eyes to hers. A slow, wolfish smile spread across his face as he looked at her.

"You have given me everything I have ever wanted," he told her truthfully. "How could I be upset?"

Grabbing her, he rolled on top and rained kisses down onto her face until she was breathless.

"I love you, Sparrow," he said when at last he let her up for air.

"I love you, Loki," she answered.

"I do not, however, think we should take any chances."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean that until you are demonstrably pregnant, do not plan to leave this bed any more than completely necessary!"

And with that he set about doing his best to ensure that the charm would have every opportunity to take effect. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it. A happy ending for our lovers. Thank you all so much for sticking with this. I am sad that it has ended, but hope that you all found the end satisfying. I really appreciate you all.


End file.
